


These Scars

by uselessdarylblog



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2019-11-14 23:44:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 57
Words: 136,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18062480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselessdarylblog/pseuds/uselessdarylblog
Summary: Unknowing of the outside world, Renée wanders out into the woods of Georgia. Into the dangers that the dead pose, away from the demons that have haunted her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains very graphic scenes. Please be aware this story contains, rape, vivisection, violence and sexual intercourse.

There was stiffness to the air as her legs tiredly trudged in front of one another, her weak body struggling to be held up by her even weaker feet. The sky was dark and the black clouds threatened a storm to arrive; she sighed as she saw the clouds, her thoughts only focused on doing one thing, finding shelter.

Wounded and incredibly vulnerable she tried to push on, hearing the distant groans of those ‘things’ behind her. With tears passing over her bloodied face she pressed one hand to the gaping wound in her abdomen, trying to stop the blood and somewhat close the opening. Her other hand at her side, clutching at her gun, knowing she didn’t have many bullets left. Or maybe she had none, at this point she didn’t really know.

 

Random drops from the sky came hailing down upon her, making her dark brunette hair stick to her face. Her breaths became more hurried as her feet tried to pick up momentum; before she knew it rain was pouring down without mercy, making her body feel even heavier. The concrete that she was walking on made keeping upright slightly easier, but not even knowing where she was that didn’t really help her.

Her eyes drifted up, the raindrops catching between her eyelashes, obscuring her vision. In the distance, between the roads of the town she caught sight of a person, holding a crossbow, his back facing her. She felt her breath catch in her throat in fear, her body heaving to the floor in weakness. Her body tumbled to the ground and caught his attention to which he immediately pointed his weapon at her, cautiously walking over to her. She shakily pointed her gun at him, not knowing herself if there were any bullets inside. The tears rolling down her face, he pinned her wrist against the concrete before she could do anything. Once again, she felt powerless.

 

 

She looked up at the man, seeing his features more clearly now. He was fairly built and wore a vest that had torn sleeves with a shirt underneath, his hair was messy and sticking to his face due to the rain, a darkish brown colour, but lighter than her own hair.

The man knelt down, one of his hands keeping her wrist pinned to the ground, the gaze he gave her was merciless, angry and stoic.  


“Tryna shoot me?” he asked, with the same expression. It was at this moment she noticed his eyes were a pale blue colour. She didn’t answer, her throat being so dry and her vocal chords failing to work in their normal way. Her eyelids became heavy and she became tempted to close them, gripping harshly at the wound on her abdomen.

The man observed the wound and looked around for his friend, seeing him in the distance.

“Rick!” he shouted and then turned his attention back to the woman, who was struggling to stay conscious.

“What’s ya name?” he asked, the only sound that came from her was a groan through the pain. And seconds later her eyes closed all the way.

“Hey!” the man shouted, shaking her shoulder but with no reaction from her. He stood up and looking over to Rick who looked just as confused at the situation.

“What the hell?…” Rick asked, the other man shrugged, unable to give him any answer.

Rick seemed deep in thought for a moment, wondering what he should do, wondering if he should take her back to the prison.

“Get ‘er in the car” Rick ordered. The other man’s head whipped up, his eyes widening.

“What!? We can’t take her! Don’t even know who the hell she is!” he argued, gesturing to her body, which now had a red puddle around it.

“Can’t just leave her here” Rick replied, “No arguments, Daryl. Get her in the car” he repeated. Daryl replied with a scoff and looked back at her, her face now drained of whatever colour she had left. Checking her pulse first, he scooped up her body with two hands and placed her in the back of the car, over the seats.

Daryl slipped into the passenger seat, “This is a huge mistake, Rick. We don’t know who she is”

Rick reversed from the small town they’d stopped in and continued to drive, “Well we’ll soon find out” he replied.

Daryl shook his head, seeing the body through the rearview mirror and wondering, who was this woman?

* * *

 

“Carl, go to the gate. I think your Dad’s home” Carol said, picking Judith up and placing her in her arms. Carol nodded and ran towards the outer gate just as the car pulled up, before long the whole group crowded around the parked car.

“How’d it go?” Carol asked Rick, he replied by pulling supplies from the trunk of the car,

“Spectacular”

Daryl stood with the body of the woman in his arms, thereby getting blood all over him, “Get Hershel” he ordered blankly, not very impressed with the situation. As the group squabbled to find Hershel, Daryl took her to the only free cell, which was next to his. As gently as he was able he lowered her onto the bed, only to be hurried out by Carol and Hershel as they rushed in with arms full of medical equipment. Rick appeared next to Daryl with Judith in his arms,

“Told ya this was a bad idea” Daryl said to Rick,

“You should lighten up” he replied, bouncing Judith on his hip in an attempt to calm her down.

Carol and Hershel worked through most of the night, Carol only returning around dinnertime to get something to eat. She was mostly silent, which for Daryl (knowing her so well), was a bad sign but he waited til they were both alone to ask what was going on.

He tapped her on the shoulder as he caught her washing the dishes, “Hey” she said, trying to be cheerful.

“Hey..." he said. Carol smiled weakly, the night having been challenging for everyone involved. 

After a moment of silence, Daryl spoke again, “What happened?” Carol paused in her tracks, taking in a deep breath, “…seems like it was bad”

“Well…we managed to revive her if that’s what you’re asking”.

 

For some reason Daryl felt a wash of relief.

 

"She's not in great shape. Probably a good job you found her when ya did. She had a good 30 minutes of CPR”

She’d stopped and Daryl’s eyes bore into her, she wasn’t looking at him, almost as if her mind was a million miles away.

“And?”

She returned to washing her dishes, “None of my business really but...her wound is old. Really old. Means that...probably before you found her, someone had done somethin' to her"

 

 

“Is she awake now?”

Carol nodded.

 

That seemed to calm him for the time being. But as he walked quietly back to his cell in the middle of the night, he found himself turning the corner of her own cell, to see Hershel sat beside her unmoving body, folding away blood-soaked clothes. 

 

And it was then, that Daryl had decided himself, that his curiosity had been satisfied and promptly went to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were a blur, for everybody. She had somewhat regained some consciousness, enough to be moving around, albeit with bandages around her lower half. Not only that, but she had not said a word to anybody. And it was unclear whether she could...or whether she just simply didn't want to.

Nobody even knew her name; she had nothing on her when she arrived so it was truly just a mystery. Or rather _she_ is the mystery.

For most of the day she simply sat in her cell, replacing her bandages every now and then, surprising Hershel at how quickly she seemed to heal and how easy it seemed for her to walk around. As she was changing her bandages, Hershel suddenly entered her cell, taking a seat on the stool next to her bed. Looking up at her struggling to tie the fabric he offered,

“C’mere, let me tie ‘em for you” he said, she looked over at him for a few seconds, studying his kind and soft features. And she nodded, sitting on the bed in front of him.  As she was facing him, he could see the facial expressions she was pulling when he was tying her bandages in place; expecting her to groan in pain from how he was touching around the area, but she didn’t say anything.

“Don’t say much, do ya?” he asked, trying to make conversation. He looked up at her as he took her blood pressure, checking to see if everything was working fine, but her eyes were elsewhere. He squeezed the pump on the blood pressure monitor, as it got tighter around her arm,

Recording her results, he sighed and was about to get off his stool,

“Renée…” her mouth moved, shocking Hershel for a moment. Her eyes still not looking towards him, he leaned in closer,

“Excuse me?”

“My name. It's Renée” she answered, her green eyes finally meeting Hershel’s. He smiled a little, happy that he’d finally made her say something; so, he took this opportunity to have a little talk with her.

“So Renée…where you from?”

Her answered were quick and emotionless, “Originally, England, but I left and moved to USA”

“I see”

Hershel paused for a moment, tidying away his medical supplies, “What happened to you before we found you, Renée?”

Renée’s face suddenly turned pale and she bit her lip, unable to say anything; the raw, blurred memories breaking their way back to the surface and jolting back at a million miles an hour. Tears glazed her vision, but she didn’t let them fall; she just looked away from Hershel.

“I can’t…” is all she was able to say. Hershel nodded understandingly and placed a comforting hand on hers, in shock she looked back at him.

 

“It’s ok, take your time” he smiled again and for a moment she did too, nodding.

As Hershel was on his way out of her cell, he caught up with Rick, who coincidentally was also on his way to see her.

“Is she talkin’?” he asked, Hershel nodded but warned about topics that were sensitive.

 

Rick took the place of Hershel and saw her sitting on the bed, her gaze drifting up to his.

“Look, I know it’s gotta be hard bein’ here and stuff but we have business to get down to-” he started, but was interrupted,

“Thank you” Renée said. Rick was silent and, to be honest, a bit confused.

“Uh…you’re welcome? But…what for?”

“For bringing me here” she paused, fiddling with her fingers, “You could have just left me there…why didn’t you?”

 

Rick was honestly so confused, for days she hadn’t said a word to anyone and now she was forming coherent sentences in an English accent…what the fuck was going on?

And she seemed not in the least bit emotional when she had thanked him. It was as if she felt obliged to say something, without any real gratitude behind what she said. But Rick, knew people. He knew that it wasn't that she had no gratitude, rather that she probably wasn't capable of much else.

 

 

“Uhhh…well, we don’t just leave people behind. Plus we need people, we could really use your help”

She nodded.

“But I gotta ask a few questions first”

Her eyes suddenly looked panicked, but she nodded anyway,

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“Walkers?”

He laughed at her accent, “Those things out there”

“Oh, um…too many to count”

“Okay, how many people have you killed?”

Her answer came after a few long seconds of silence, “1”

“…Why?”

She averted her eyes, looking down at her lap, almost looking ashamed.

There was another long pause.

“He was a bad person” she replied, Rick knew he wasn’t going to get anything more out of her so he abandoned the question time for now.

“You should come outside…” he paused and she looked at him again, her stoic expression reminded him of Daryl, “…get some food in ya”

She nodded and followed Rick out of her cell, “What’s your name?”

“Renée” she replied. He smiled, already feeling closer to his newest member.

Everyone was talking and chatting by the time Rick and Renée arrived, some people had noticed them and smiled. But not everyone had realised yet and she thought to herself, she would prefer to stay that way.  


But Daryl had noticed.

He watched her move around to where the food was being given out, watching her mouth move ‘thanks’ to the person who gave her something. Then watching her sit to the furthest seat she could find, feeling as if she couldn’t talk to anybody.

“Stare a little more, she’ll love it” Carol jabbed Daryl, he scoffed and continued eating whatever was on his plate.

“I don’t give a shit about ‘er. Caused me enough trouble” he replied, Carol raised an eyebrow,

“You really don’t like her? She very much reminds me of you” Carol smiled at Daryl, but he was less than impressed.

“Whatever”

 

 

It wasn't long before Carol had approached her when she'd gone to wash her own dishes, she had always approached quiet people since Ed's death, seeing a little bit of herself in them.

 

"Hey"

 

Renée simply looked up and nodded slightly, "Hi"

 

"Renée, right? Rick told me about ya. I'm Carol" 

 

"Hi"

 

Carol took the sponge from Renée, "Don't worry about these, I'll wash them. Are you allowed to shower?"

 

"I suppose I should be. Where are they?"

 

"Just down the hall from your cell. No hot water, but it's nice to wash up" she smiled.

 

She nodded, "Thanks. I'll see you around"

 

* * *

 

Maybe Carol was trying to insinuate that she smelled but she didn’t care, she was going for that shower, it’s exactly what she needed. In the dead of night, she crept out her cell and made her way to the shower rooms, dropping her nightclothes on the floor she started taking off her boots and socks.

 

As if hearing the running water from a distance, Daryl looked up to see who he knew was Renée, her naked back facing him. Hair undone and wavy brown locks now damp against her back. He felt his heart rush in his chest as he turned away with clothes in hand, eyes closed tightly. Cursing him for seeing her in that light.

Even Renée herself, while rubbing her eyes with the cold water, thought about him. The look he gave her when she was vulnerable against the hard concrete, she felt her skin prick up at the memory.

And Daryl, sat in his cell. Waiting for her to be finished, hand against his head, fingers pulling at the strands of his hair. He could not have possibly imagined a person who he could dislike more than her. To him, she was ungrateful.

And yet he could not stop thinking about her.


	3. Chapter 3

Ever since that night Daryl saw her in the showers; his mind had not been his own, it had been invaded by thoughts of Renée. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he could not stop thinking about her and he was becoming frustrated.

Everyone had seen the tension between the two, Daryl and Renée both jabbing the other; Daryl even going as far as name-calling like ‘poncey british bitch’. Renée often retorted and pushed the man away, warning him not to come near her again, but he always did. Truth was, he was addicted to her. He was addicted to her spark.

That day, Renée was on laundry duty with Beth and was instructed to change the covers in everybody’s room, which everybody knew so they let Beth and Renée do what they needed to do. Eventually, Renée had to strip Daryl’s bed and hesitantly walked into his cell without him being there.

She pulled off the first layer of sheets and bundled them up into the basket next to her when she heard a voice from the doorway,

“The hell you doin’ here?” Daryl growled, his feelings manifesting into anger. Renée rolled her eyes and turned to Daryl, holding the basket in her arms,

“I was just collecting your sheets for laundry, don’t flatter yourself” she replied, walking towards the door, trying to push past him to exit. Daryl stayed in the doorway, Renée eyed him.

 

“What makes ya think you can just come in here? Uninvited” he warned stepping closer to her, Renée stepped away but kept her stance as defensive.

“Would you just get out the way” Renée ordered, trying to push past him. The brief contact she had with his shoulder made his nerves flare up and he grabbed the basket and threw it across the room. Renée stared at him questionably,

“What the fuck is wrong with you" pushing his chest with her hands. Daryl responded physically by taking one of her hands and pushing her away forcefully. Not realising the extent to which he pushed her, her head collided with the metal frame of the bed and she collapsed to the floor.

Whipping her head up, she stared at Daryl with a gaze that could only picture hatred. Daryl stared at her, not apologetic but at the same time with the realisation of what he’d done now hitting him as he saw a trail of blood trickle down from her nose. Renée touched the area with her fingers, realising now that she was bleeding.

 

 

Angrily and in an even worse mood than she already was, Renée gathered the basket and charged past Daryl, her palm hitting against his chest and pushing him against the doorframe harshly to get out of her way. Storming off into the corridor, Daryl just stared; more anger stirring up within him.

 

* * *

 

That night there was more than just tension separating Daryl and Renée as they sat as far away from one another as they could at dinner that night. Renée picked at the food on her plate, her mind and feelings all over the place. What was his problem anyway? What kind of vendetta did he have against her already?

The group gathered around the fireplace, others chatting and laughing with one another but Renée just stared at her plate, a little swear of blood still under her nose. Carol tapped her arm and she looked up nervously,

“Renée you have something on your nose” Carol mentioned, signalling to her own nose. Renée reached up and wiped the red liquid away quickly, trying not to make a scene,

“Did you hurt yourself?” Carol mothered Renée and she shook her head,

“Uhh, yeah...must have" Renée replied, finding herself already lying for him. Carol furrowed her eyebrows and looked over to Daryl who was staring intently at Renée, who heard her response. Carol gave him a cold stare, knowing his temper.

“What?” he asks, immediately defensive.

“What happened?” Carol asked, the conversation was still not heard by others as their conversations crowded theirs.

“What ya lookin’ at me for?” Daryl asked, arms in the air,

"Ya think I didn't hear ya earlier? Causin' trouble for no reason" Carol snapped, like a mother at her child.

"Didn't do nothin'" he denied. 

Renée finally looked up to him. Finally, having had enough. She had decided she wasn't lying for anybody anymore.

"Nothing? So this is nothing, huh? You're a fucking weed"

"So now ya got somethin' to say?! Who the fuck ya think ya are!"

Renée stood from her place, clearing the space between them easily. Now everybody's attention had turned to them.

"I would like to know who the fuck you think you are" she said.

He had almost smiled when she said this, as if accepting a challenge, "I think ya shouldn't be here! Go be walker bait for all I care! See, Rick! Told ya it was a bad idea bringin' her here. Ain't nothin' but trouble!"

 

 Rick had come over, making himself known to the situation by getting between the two. But Renée had already drawn her weapon, a sheathed machete that she'd had the day she arrived. She held the blade in her hand and held the sharp end to his face. 

 

"You are exactly the scum that I, quite frankly, don't need" she said quietly, "given the choice, I'd fucking kill you"

 

"Ya ain't got the fuckin' guts" Daryl said. 

 

"Come near me again, I will fucking kill you" she warned.

 

She went to leave, Carol grabbing her arm to try and keep her back. Renée pulled away and opened the gates, letting herself out and into the woods silently.  

In his chest, he felt the strangling feeling of guilt creep up. But kept a composure.

 

Rick only shook his head, "Go get her" he ordered.

 

"Like hell am I"

 

"You will" he ordered again, "I heard the whole thing. I ain't havin' you assaultin' my people. She best be back by mornin', or her blood is on your hands"

 

Daryl looked back over, seeing the dark night slowly suck the sunlight away. She had disappeared into the woods and the guilty feeling turned to a panicked one, as he had realised the situation he'd put himself in.

 

He pulled his crossbow over his shoulder. And with everyone silent and watching, he went out in search. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was the same stillness as that day when they had found her, in a pool of her own blood, clutching at her gaping wound in her abdomen. She found it difficult to move her own legs in front of each other, but not because of the pain. She was hesitant to.

  
But at the same time she wanted to be far away. From _him._

 

God she hated him, she thought to herself. She hated how cocky, loud and self-centred he was all the bloody time. She remembered the cold hit of the bed frame against her face when he’d pushed her, to see his face when he’d realised what he’d done. God she just…disliked him so much. 

 

He reminded her of everything she had hated in men before all this. 

 

So with her machete hanging readily at her side, she slowly and sluggishly dragged herself through the dense forest. One hand always on the handle, ready to slash any dead thing she saw. 

 

But she was in her own world. Her own foggy, unintelligible world. She found herself daydreaming about nothing in particular and always in the state of distance from every other person. Feeling no particular need to become close to any of them. And with Daryl being hostile didn’t help her motives. 

 

By no means did she want to stay away forever. It was a good source of food and itinerary being at the prison with the others. But it didn’t mean she wanted to and right now, she simply needed the space and the air to breathe.

 

The low, rumbling growls of multiple walkers stole her thoughts and her pale green eyes looked up to find five of them, arms reaching out to her in the distance, their jaws barely staying up on their faces. She’d seen many a face like that, everybody up to finding this group having been dead and reanimated. Other living people were rare for her to find before them and if they were alive, they wouldn’t be for long. 

 

She quickly unsheathed the blade from her holster and approached them. Every slash at their body filled with rage accompanied by her annoyed and exhausted groans. Every emotion bubbling up inside of her as she slashed them back to death. And when she was done, with their bodies hanging around her, Renée simply stood there, watching them, chest heaving with annoyance and…anger. More angry at being vulnerable. 

 

She wiped the blood on her jeans and looked at the sky to see the darkness quickly getting blacker and blacker and had decided it was probably time to find somewhere to sleep. Not too many steps along her self made path came a shack, which looked barely used and in good shape. It wasn’t barricaded, leading her to believe that something might have still been there. So she kept her machete at her side, unsheathed. 

 

She tread lightly on the floorboards, expecting anything, inspecting any possible sound. But after getting into the middle of the room, she concluded that it was safe and placed her weapon back in its hold. Taking a look around, the place was a shit hole. It was dirty, messy, little specks of blood everywhere. Renée hardly felt at ease, but it was something. She sighed to herself and looked down at her bloodied shirt with a grimace. Surely there’d be something here she could change into. 

 

Jeans were hard enough to find so she didn’t bother finding different ones, but after numerous rifling through drawers and a wardrobe, she found a round neck ¾ sleeved black shirt which was slightly off shouldered. It would have to do. So without a second thought, she stripped off her shirt and walked over to the mirror that stood against the bed. It was grimy, but worked. 

 

When she saw her stature in the mirror however, she paused and looked herself up and down, slowly. She was a taller woman than average, that being a conscious thing in her mind to begin with, but with her finger she absentmindedly touched the deep purple scar lining her abdomen, disappearing underneath her jeans. As she touched them, she felt the pangs of pain she had felt before and the shame build alongside with it. 

 

Frustrated, she pushed the mirror aside, smashing the delicate glass into a million, tiny pieces. She huffed and threw the shirt on, slightly tight in the bust, but clean. Huffing, she sat herself on the windowsill, her feet flat on the wall in front of her. Seeing the silhouettes of the thin trees against the sky and the littering of stars above them all.

 

This world was ugly with few things nice left in it. But in this moment, she could appreciate the stars in the night sky. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl was unhappy. Noticeably so. He huffed and complained as he followed her tracks, easily enough, but with little motivation. 

 

He had his crossbow strung over his back along with his arrows, a stern look plastered across his features in a constant state. He cursed to himself as he looked around, daylight disappearing long ago, causing him to become annoyed at the prospect of never finding her. Not like he wanted to. But for the sake of the group, he had to. 

 

All he saw now though, were the tall, skinny trees that surrounded him and how the night seemed to get darker and darker the further they went. But there was a glimmer of prospect as he looked to the distance, seeing an unfamiliar amber glow in between the same thin trees. 

 

He didn’t rush to the source of the light, knowing that it was probably where Renée had gone to. So, without even knocking, he pushed the wooden door right open, making it bang against the wall loudly at his entrance. He immediately saw her perched on the windowsill, leaning against the frame and staring out the window, eating some kind of canned item she found in the kitchen. At the loud noise, she looked over uninterested and saw him less than happily stood in the doorway. 

 

 

Renée looked at him for a while and turned back to what she had been doing, absentmindedly looking out the window at the night sky. 

 

“Ya comin’ with me or what” he spoke lowly, sounding more like an order than a question. 

 

 

She replied without looking him in the eyes, only infuriating the man more, “Not really no”.

 

His scowl returned, “Quit gettin' all hormonal about and come with me” he barked. She twirled the spoon around in the hands and laughed to herself a bit, muttering ‘charming’ under her breath. She rose from the sill and for a moment, Daryl’s gaze drifted to the newly added appearance of her cleavage in the tight, low top she was wearing. But he regained himself and the anger quickly returned. 

 

 

She threw the empty can in what seemed like a bin and leaned against the windowsill to face Daryl across the room, arms folded across her chest. 

 

“Will ya stop bein’ a smartass and just come with me”  

 

“No” she said confidently, “Like I said, I don’t want to” 

 

“Well that’s too damn bad, sunshine cos ya gonna have to” he was pacing now, the anger just flowing through him now. Getting more and more annoyed. Renée couldn’t help but roll her eyes slightly now. 

 

“What is your actual problem?” she asked. But genuinely curious.

 

 

“What’s _my_ problem? _MY_ problem is you. Ya ain't got respect for no-one! Like ya just expect all the food, hospitality and sympathy to just come to ya! I can assure ya, ya ain't gettin' none of that from me!"

 

 

Daryl had become so involved in his berating of Renée that he had taken several steps towards her and she had tensed up the closer and closer he got. 

 

“Think ya real clever not tellin’ us ya name, huh? Ya ain’t fool me! And believe me, I got half the mind to leave ya for the walkers. Or are ya gonna come the fuck back with me and play the victim some more, huh?!”

 

Daryl poked Renée’s lower stomach, referring to her scars that were still healing. But angrily, she took the pain in stride and returned with a sharp slap across the man’s face. So hard it almost made him recoil. He raised his hand to his now stinging cheek and rubbed it, acting as if the pain was nothing. 

 

But when he looked up, he saw the look in her eyes. Not only was she pissed off, chin raised high in defence. She had tears in her eyes. Clenched fists and heavy breathing. He was shocked that she’d had the audacity to hit him, but he was also shocked at her expression.

 

“Like you have any fucking idea. Like any other man I’ve ever met, you think you know everything about me”

 

Her words were biting and harsh and her eyes never left his. 

 

“Before all this I bet you had a shitty job at a shitty place with shitty pay. I would have dreamt for something like that. I spent the beginning of all this handcuffed naked in a room that was barely fit for an animal, never mind a human. I stopped counting the fucking days when I got pregnant with his baby. I stopped losing hope when he cut it out of me. Then I felt nothing.

  
He’d rape me. Every day. Like I was breakfast, lunch and dinner, he’d rape me. He couldn’t have me pregnant, though. These scars on me, were the ones that he made.  And he didn’t just kill my baby, he made sure I couldn’t have any more children. So he took what he pleased out of me. 

 

Does that make you feel any better? Does that clear anything up for you?”

 

 

There was tears in her eyes. Angry, hot tears as she lectured him. 

 

“When you found me, I’d been on my own for months. Never saw anybody else. 

 

So if i seem a bit untrustworthy, _Daryl,_  I wholeheartedly apologise” 

 

The apology was not sincere, but she didn’t mean for it to be. And Daryl stood, open mouthed, with a wholesome, sorry look on his face. He tried to say something, but the words had no substance and he would not speak. 

 

“Jesus, I-I’m-”

 

“Yeah, you’re sorry. Now that you know”

 

Renée looked at Daryl, standing there awkwardly. Renée stared at him, not looking quite as up himself as he had before, he looked remorseful, soft almost vulnerable. His body language seemed totally different. 

 

“Will you do something for me?” she asked, her pale eyes looking at him. He looked up with his blue ones, his tanned face in direct contrast. 

 

“What?”

 

Looking almost ashamed and embarrassed, she lifted her shirt revealing her bra underneath and threw it on the floor, going to work on the button of her jeans. Daryl stepped back a little, in a bit of awe at what was happening. A woman he thought he hated, undressing right in front of him. 

 

“Uh…Renée…I-”

 

She stood in her underwear and between them there was silence for a moment. She looked up at him, pulling the hair tie from her hair and letting her wavy brown locks fall over her shoulders. 

 

“Make love to me” she asked. Almost desperately, "Forgot what it's like, actually wanting it"

 

“Uhh…” he replied, unsure quite of what to say. He felt like he should refuse because she sounded so sure.

 

“I just want to know how it feels. But only if you want to, of course” 

 

“Nah I want to…” he said quickly, making her smile a little, “…it’s just…”

 

She walked up to him, a small smile across her features. Her hands went up to the buttons of his shirt, slowly unfolding them to reveal his tanned chest underneath. 

 

“You don’t have to worry about hurting me” she said in almost a whisper. And when the shirt was unbuttoned the whole way, her eyes returned to his shoulder and with her smooth hands, she lifted the fabric from his skin and slid it off. Admiring his body. 

 

“I never hated you, you know” she admitted quietly, bringing her arms behind her back to fiddle with her bra straps. She slowly pulled the fabric down to reveal herself to Daryl, with a hint of embarrassment. 

 

“I just hated how I was so much like you”

 

She took his hand and placed it on the curve of her left breast, telling him it was okay. And his warm hand stayed there, massaging the warm flesh slowly after a while. She stepped towards him, feeling that warmth in the bottom of her stomach. Threading her fingers through the back of his hair, she placed her lips on his in a needed kiss. Daryl responded with his own pressure, one of his hand unsurely resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him. And they stood there a while in their passionate kiss, feeling one another’s need. 

 

When she had pulled away, she stared up at him, seeing his bright blue eyes looking down at her. She felt her feet move backwards until she was pushed onto the bed behind her, she shuffled upwards so her head laid against the pillows.  Daryl, a bit self conscious now that his own shirt was off, instinctively pushed himself between her legs. His attention now on her body laying beneath him, his fingers delicately drifting over her fair skin. Between her breasts, over her stomach, down to her now only article of clothing, beneath it revealing the deep scar she had spoken about. 

 

 

“Daryl” she whispered, catching him out. She took his hand softly and took it away from her scar, she had a solemn but appreciative look on her face. 

 

“Sorry…” he apologised, she all but shook her head, wordlessly telling him it was no big deal. 

 

Her own hands fell to his jeans, popping open the top button and unzipping them slowly, her eyes always on his above her. He pushed them down and threw them off the bed, Renée felt the breath in her chest get caught with her nervousness. 

 

He had noticed and placed a kiss below her bust, placing more and more the lower he went. He stopped above her underwear, where the same scars were and placed several small kisses on them, his eyes looking up to see her smiling. His fingers felt the fabric of her underwear, lace. Without the second thought, he pushed them to one side and placed his tongue on her most intimate place. Renée let out a breathy moan, her eyes searching the ceiling for a way to explain the feeling, feeling the warmth of his mouth on her clit making her body feel warm already. 

 

Satisfied with her reaction, Daryl carried on, hands gripping onto her thighs creating little red marks. Renée’s fingers gripped the bedsheets beside her, eyes closed to concentrate on the feeling, she couldn’t help but let out quiet moans, only for them to become louder and needy. 

 

She thought it was a strange feeling, one so foreign to her for years. But she was at least grateful she could orgasm. 

 

Her moans came to a slow end as he pulled away and she’d realised he was now kissing her neck, feeling his breath there. Her hands came up to his shoulders, keeping a hold of him there. Her grip only became tougher as she felt him there. She turned to look at him, he licked his lips and looked back at her. She looked the littlest bit concerned but as if she had been waiting for it. 

 

“Ya okay?” he asked, she smiled and nodded softly, “If ya want me ta stop just-”

 

“I’ll be fine…” she said, “…I want this”

 

He nodded, giving her another chaste kiss before slowly pushing inside her. She let out an uncomfortable moan first, having not had intercourse, if you could call it intercourse, in a while. She definitely wasn’t used to it being so soft and slow. But after a few moments, she felt her body relax. But most importantly she felt comfortable, she didn’t feel used. 

 

 

She felt the slight pain fade as Daryl began a slow but pleasurable pace. Her fingers lost their grip on his shoulders as she felt his body flush against hers, both their underwear still on their bodies, but exposed so heavily to each other at the same time. 

 

Renée heard Daryl moan a little, as if he were holding back and she felt so grateful that he’d taken so much care with her. His breath was hot on her neck as he sped up his movements ever so slightly, both their moans becoming ever-louder. 

 

Eventually, Daryl’s hands rested on her hips, holding her beneath and close to him as he pushed inside her quickly. He observed the way her breasts would bounce and rise with the movement and her breathing and couldn’t help but drag his eyes over the details of her body. He never would have imagined this is how their interaction would end. 

 

He could feel her tensing up and reaching some sort of climax, so he sped up his motions, giving her even more build up and pleasure to achieve it. She gripped the sheets, feeling the build up slowly release with a long, loud moan. Daryl felt the same until he couldn’t take it anymore and quickly pulled out of her, spilling onto her thighs.

 

The only thing heard for minutes afterwards, were both of their hagged breaths. Exhausted. Sexually spent. Renée lay there, looking at him, half lidded and feeling empty, but full at the same time. Daryl pulled his jeans back up and took a rag to clean her thighs, looking apologetic.

 

“’m sorry” he muttered, as if ashamed. 

 

“It’s okay” she replied softly. But mostly because she was out of breath. 

 

Once she was clean, she padded across the room and pulled her bra and shirt back on, A new feeling filled the room. The sense of awkwardness. Once Renée and Daryl were dressed, silence filled the void between them until he spoke.

 

“Should probably stay here for the night” he suggested. Renée nodded and slipped beneath the very sheets she was just on top of, while Daryl slumped into the couch uncomfortably. 

 

“You don't want the bed?” she offered. He turned his body away so she could see his back and heard him mutter,

 

“Nah, ‘m good” 

 

For some reason, Renée felt that through her heart. 

 

And as she lay down, trying to get comfortable…she couldn’t help but feel a different kind of used. 


	5. Chapter 5

Renée was the first to wake up in the tender hours of the morning. She lay there, looking over at the man on the sofa, his slow breathing telling her he was still asleep. She could hardly believe this man was the same one who had given her what he had the night previous. The woman, now fully dressed, swung her legs off the bed to grab her things. Her trusty machete and her backpack she had left with. Once she had sheathed her weapon, she looked back over at the man and felt her chest ache. 

 

Was he really being genuine the other night? Had he meant what he said. Renée had never thought about pursuing any sort of relationship with him, not like it would happen anyway. But she felt that same pang of betrayal as he acted the way he did, acting as if it was another routine. Another broken girl for him to get an easy fuck out of maybe. 

 

She was just making herself more angry now. So she pushed open the front door, greeted with the brisk morning air outside. The grass still had their drops of morning dew on them and there were no dead around to destroy the calm atmosphere. 

  
The long enough walk back to the prison allowed her time to think by herself in the silence, which to her, was not necessarily a good thing. It allowed her to ponder how Daryl might have felt. Why he might be so detached. 

 

She couldn’t help but fail to comprehend how consensual sex was so difficult to process…emotionally. 

 

 

* * *

 

In her mind she couldn’t blame all of her feelings on her past, which Daryl was now inevitably aware of, but it was entirely probable that her own detachment was caused by past sexual violence. Whether or not Daryl truly understood what she had been through…that was hanging over her head.  

 

The young sunrise had risen a little further into the sky by the time she saw the fences of the prison. Luckily, she locked eyes with Maggie, who rushed to the pulley to open the inner gates. She didn’t rush though. Mostly, she thought about what to tell Maggie. 

 

She gave the woman no hints and simply went to walk past her until the woman spoke in her charming Southern accent. 

 

“Hey” she said, “Everythin’ alright?”

 

Renée nodded quickly, “Yeah, fine” 

 

Maggie obviously didn’t believe her to begin with and followed the woman inside, “Where’s Daryl? Did he come find you?” 

 

“Yep” she nodded quickly again. Her nervousness confused Maggie, there was no reason for her to be secretive. 

 

“Renée, I know when someone’s bullshittin’, so what’s wrong” she ordered. Renée shrugged her shoulders,

 

 

“Nothing. Just Daryl…” she said as she started inside, making a fast path towards her cell, dumping her stuff and laying her body heavily on the mattress. 

 

She sighed loudly, her mind elsewhere. Her eyes stared up at the empty ceiling. But her mind on the man from the night before.

 

 

* * *

 

Daryl walked the same route Renée had not hours earlier, but with a heavier feeling on his shoulders. And when he saw the prison, he saw the billowing smoke that emitted from the communal area, a barbecue. He sighed lowly to himself as he made his way through. Everyone was making idle chatter to one another, occasionally giving a small glance over to him as he was let through the gates, but in no time they were back to conversing with each other. 

He could see Maggie and Glenn flirting with each other once again, she was gently slapping his arm, as if he was making some kind of joke. But Daryl’s gaze drifted to the woman beside them, sat in a chair peeling vegetables. He would be embarrassed to admit how much time he spent simply stood there, peeling potatoes, watching her concentrate. 

But he shook his mind and walked over to Rick, who was conversing with the prison’s residents. 

“Hey” he mumbled, taking a paper plate and placing some meat on it. Rick turned to Daryl, hands on his hips, a smile across his face. 

“Daryl” he addressed, “Judging from the way you two are acting, I suppose you still don’t like each other”

Daryl simply shrugged, taking a bite of meat. His mind briefly remembered the night before, laying her body down on the bed softly, the way her breasts looked in that bra. He shook his head, replying to Rick…but also rejecting those thoughts. 

He walked away without saying anything else, eyes on Renée. Glenn seemed to have walked away and now Maggie and Renée were gossiping about something, mischievous smiles on their faces. The dark brunette woman looked around and seemed to catch Daryl’s eyes on hers, but she quickly looked away and continued talking to Maggie. 

Embarrassed, Daryl turned away as well, standing next to Carol. He uttered no greeting to the woman and neither did she, they simply ate in silence. Every now and this his eyes still flickering to look over to the woman, 

For a moment there he had thought that she looked good smiling. It was something so rare to see on a person like her, but when she did smile, it lit up her face. 

 

* * *

 

There was no end to it, he thought to himself. Lying there in his cell, he abandoned the bedsheets long ago. His body was far too hot and he had also abandoned his clothes save for his boxers, for the sake of modesty at least. 

At this point however, his chest was glistening with sweat by how hot he was feeling and it was only getting him more frustrated. But he was far too lazy to take a shower, so instead he took a small trip to the communal sinks and slashed his face with cold water. 

Padding back to his room, he couldn’t help but look into Renée’s room. He saw that her curtain had been pulled back and a light of some sort was on, so when he had looked in he was surprised to find her sat in front of her mirror, brushing her thick hair. She was sat at her desk with only a tank top and underwear on, brushing the tangles out of her hair. 

He almost jumped out of his skin when she turned around and saw him in the hallway, the moonlight casting a greyish tone onto him, but a warm amber glow onto Renée. She stood up and walked over to her curtain, somewhat covering her bottom half with it she leaned against the doorframe. 

“You need something?” she asked. 

He swallowed, slightly embarrassed and shook his head, “Nah…just walkin’ by” he replied. Her look didn’t change. 

“If you don’t want to speak to me then don’t bother. I won’t waste my time” she said walking away from him. He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned against her doorframe, looking into her room, it was bland and boring. No decorations, just the light in the corner of the room. 

“The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout?” he asked. 

She looked over at him, her hair falling over her shoulder, now smooth. 

 

 

“Are we just going to pretend like last night didn’t happen at all?” she asked. 

Daryl didn’t really know what to say. All he’d had in his life was casual sex, never really anything deeper than that, so in the eye of feelings, he was unknowing.

“Dunno what ya wanna hear” 

She scoffed at his reply. 

“I would like to know what I am to you. An easy fuck? Damaged goods?”

“The fuck is wrong wi’cha? I didn’t say any o’ that shit”

“Could’ve fooled me. You kind of gave me that impression after you’d done your business last night” she crossed her arms, giving him a less than impressed kind of look. 

“I ain’t into cuddlin’”

“If you don't like me, I'd rather you not keep staring at me, got it?”

Daryl was unexpectedly mad at her reply and instinctively sauntered up to her quickly, making her back up as a reaction. Her back hit the wall, but he continued to walk towards her. His face inches from hers, he looked down at the woman who had fire in her darker green eyes now.

“Ya think I do it for ma fuckin’ health? Don’t think ya damaged goods or nothin’, ya asked me to do it so I did it. Don’t think ya nothin’ special”

Her eyes were looking past him now in almost a blank looking stare. He was almost sure she wouldn’t say anything. 

“Would you have done it…if I didn’t ask you” she asked quietly, still looking past him. 

Daryl stepped forward, pressing his body against hers. One hand came up to grab her arm tightly and push her further into the wall and her eyes met his. His pupils were large, but his expression unchanged. 

“I might have…” he replied quietly, his grip tightening on her arm. 

A small smile spread across her face.

Daryl scoffed in amusement, a smile of his own appearing.

“You piss me off” he growled. 

Renée couldn’t help but smirk at his statement as she pushed his torso to sit on her bed, her legs coming around his to sit herself comfortably on his lap.

“Maybe I lied a little bit yesterday…” she said quietly. Daryl raised his eyebrows in question, 

“What?”

She smiled at his reaction and cupped his face, 

“Maybe I do hate you _just_ a little bit…”

Daryl barely gave out a laugh before she placed her lips on his, feeling suddenly a little bit more confident after her sexual encounter with him yesterday. She felt like surprising him. And he seemed surprised by the welcomed hardness between his legs, not going unnoticed by Renée. 

For a moment, Daryl pulled away, this time surprising her. 

“Never think ya damaged goods…just cos o’ what happened…” he looked earnestly at her. Renée felt comforted and warmed by what he said, but chose not to reply, instead kissing him once again. 

 

 

Daryl was beginning to get hot once again and so was she until she pulled away, leaving him a little confused. And a bit hot and bothered. 

“We shouldn’t…” 

“Why not?”

She paused for a moment, looking down and then back up at him, “I just need to be sure” she replied. 

For a second, he didn’t understand. But then he had remembered the things she had told him in that shack and nodded in understanding. Without saying anything more, he murmured a ‘goodnight’ and left her cell and back to his own.

The separation did nothing for either or them except leaving them both unsure about their feelings for each other. Now with a blurrier line than before. Renée…wanting that closeness she had craved so badly, but unsure of his intentions. Daryl…almost wanting to fix her, to bring her desires to the surface. 

She needn’t hide those intentions anymore. 


	6. Chapter 6

Renée lay there in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Thinking about the man in the other cell. Was he thinking the same thing? 

She wasn’t entirely sure if it had been a few hours since he left her cell, but when he had done what she had asked she couldn’t help but feel just a little achy. 

Annoyed with herself, she swung her legs off the bed and padded out of her cell , looking over at his, which was engulfed in darkness with the curtain covering his whole doorway. She pulled the curtain back, letting the backlit moonlight pour into the room. And there he was, sat on the bed, hands clasped together on his knees. He looked slowly up to her, as if expecting her. 

 

 

She could feel his eyes drag up her body to her face. He regarded her tall, smooth legs that ended with her navy shorts at her upper thigh. Then her pyjama top, a white short sleeved shirt that was slightly see through. It showed off her chest, then her neck, then her wavy dark hair that was wrapped over her shoulder. And then her face.

 

Even in this light he could see her forest green eyes. 

 

She let the curtain behind her fall back into place, enveloping the room in darkness once again. She could only just barely see Daryl get up from his spot and walk towards her, his large hands hovering over her arms. He could feel the heat radiating from her. 

 

It was almost like second nature when he leaned in to kiss her slowly. As passionately as they had done in the shack in the woods. His hands drifted up her back, hiking her shirt up and she smiled as he did so. She whispered his name as he touched her body, in all the ways she had always dreamed a man would.

 

* * *

 

His finger circled the delicate patch of skin on her shoulder, tracing the perimeter of the sizable burn mark, a slightly lighter shade than the rest of her body, which was pale anyway. Daryl wondered what could have possibly happened to her, but he could probably guess, he didn’t want to ask just in case she didn’t want to go that far; she’d already told him the deepest, darkest secrets from her other scars.

Her eyes were softly shut, still in a deep sleep her head was facing Daryl’s chest, one of her hands wrapped around his body. He admired her face as she slept, thinking that she looked even more peaceful than when she was awake. Suddenly Renée stirred and tightened her hold on his body, silently wishing he would stay in the same position.

Her eyelashes twitched and she opened her tired eyes, looking up to his blue ones, she couldn’t help but see a soft smile on his face,

“Mornin’” he greeted, Renée smiled as well, hearing his tired, deep voice. She rubbed her eyes,

“Hey” she repositioned her head so she was resting on the pillow once again, she didn’t bother covering up her chest as she moved upwards. Daryl moved the covers however, making sure that the blanket proceeded past her breasts, she laughed,

“Now you’re being modest?” she questioned. Daryl rolled his eyes and let his own head fall on the pillow also, now closer to her face. His finger still traced the scar on her shoulder and Renée noticed, sighing a little,

“It's a burn mark” she said, Daryl looked down quickly, a small heat rising to his cheeks,

“Sorry” he apologised, quickly withdrawing his hand. Renée repositioned so her arm was around his torso once more, ultimately becoming even closer to him.

“It was a house fire”

Renée paused, her finger drawing circles on Daryl’s chest. She could feel him listening intently,

 "Same way with my mom" he said. Renée lowered her eyes, her hand resting on his shoulder in support.

 

"I'm sorry" she said, Daryl shook his head. 

"Don't be sorry" he replied, placing a kiss on her lips. She smiled as he did, his hands going to wander her body now. He had slowly made his way over her body, too engrossed in their closeness now.

“Ya ready?” Rick semi-shouted from the cell door. Daryl looked up, bringing the covers over their bodies; Renée however developed flushed cheeks as she saw him,

“Shit, sorry” Rick said as he walked away. Renée let out an annoyed moan, her head falling on the pillow.

"Shit" she cursed. 

Secret's out.

 

* * *

 

Renée was instructed immediately to take care of the walkers that had accumulated around the fences, armed with a long metal pole; she walked away, letting her hair fall from her bun as she walked away to secure it in a ponytail again. From his motorbike, Daryl watched as he admired the way her ass looked in the jeans she’d chosen, but also the way her shirt hugged her breasts,

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he heard Carol say, he looked over and saw her smiling and he immediately looked away, a rush of pink rising to his cheeks. He continued fiddling with parts of his motorbike as he avoided Carol’s smug look,

“I don’t think I need to guess what happened” she said not knowing about what Rick had seen earlier. She pushed his shoulder playfully, “How’d it go?”

Daryl joined gazes with her rolling his eyes at her immaturity, “Went fine, just a misunderstandin’”

“So now what?” Carol asked as Daryl screwed some parts,

“Dunno. Haven’t asked her”

Carol nodded, pushing his shoulder with hers, “Well good luck. You’re going out on a run later, so be prepared for that”

“Where to?”

“Rick found a small pharmacy not too far away; we need medicine for common diseases, nothing special”

Daryl nodded, “Who’s comin’?”

“You, Renée, Glenn and Maggie I think”

“Mm great, like a fuckin’ double date” Daryl scoffed. Carol smiled,

“C’mon, might be fun” she replied, winking and walking away.

Daryl shook his head, thinking Carol was being childish and immature. He looked towards the fences and saw Renée stabbing each walker through the head, her ponytail swaying and the profile of her face visible even from this distance. As he looked at her, he almost could not believe that he’d slept with her twice; how did a girl like that ever fall for someone like him? He thought.

 

“Hey…” he said behind her. She impaled the last walker at the gates and turned to face him, blowing a strand of hair from her face. She smiled slightly.

 

“Hey” She said breathlessly, her chest glistening from the heat, “What’s up?”

 

“Goin’ on a run later. Need to get suited up” 

 

She raised her eyebrows, “Oh? Okay. Well…lead the way then”

 

“Ladies first…” 

 

She smiled and walked past him, feeling his hands hovering ever so slightly on the small of her back

 

“Did I just see that?” Glenn asked Maggie, she crossed her arms, smirking,

 

“I always knew”

 

* * *

 

Glenn sighed as he dumped the last bag of weapons into the back of the car, Daryl followed shortly behind, his hands full of ammunition. Glenn looked up at the taller man, smiling,

“What you smilin’ at?” Daryl asked, preparing the ammunition by reloading all the guns,

“So uh…you and Renée, huh?”

Both of their gazes suddenly turned to the two girls who were chatting as they were walking towards the car. Renée had a glistening chest, as it had been hot today; she huffed and handed her gun to Maggie, taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head and she threw it in the front seat, now in her black tank top. Daryl’s blood immediately shot to his lower body and Glenn laughed, punching him playfully in the arm,

 

“You got it bad” he muttered, before walking away. Daryl eyed Renée as she prepared her own weapons; for some reason seeing Renée with a gun made Daryl smile, it was a weirdly sexy thing to see.

Renée noticed him looked and raised her eyebrow, “You gonna stand there all day or should we get going?” she asked, her accent ringing through the air. She opened the passenger seat and closed the door behind her, leaving Daryl dumbstruck. Glenn and Maggie sat in the back seat, giggling like two little schoolchildren, while Daryl made his way to the driver’s seat.

“Everyone ready?” he asked, starting the engine,

“Yes, sir” Renée replied, winking at him. He scoffed and turned his eyes back on the road.


	7. Chapter 7

The whole ride towards the abandoned pharmacy, it was fairly big when Daryl pulled up next to it; everyone was quiet, because it was far too quiet and deserted at this place. Not a walker in sight.

Renée hopped out of the car and slammed the door, grabbing her machete and a handgun from the supply bag in the back seat, while she loaded her bullets, she glanced up to Daryl. He had his back to her and she admired the angel wings on his vest, she also noted the way his arms looked, slightly dirty and sweaty. The corner of her lip raised at the sight.

Shoving the cartridge into the gun, she stashed it in the holster, following Glenn and Maggie. Noting how Glenn’s hand was hovering above the small of Maggie’s back, they were clearly a very different couple than herself and Daryl. He never really touched her in close proximity with other people, but then again, Renée never expected him to.

She pushed the hair out of her face, it was so hot today and she followed after Daryl. The front of the pharmacy was firmly shut, Daryl, Glenn and Maggie allowed Renée to open it for them; as she pushed it open she banged on the door, her gun pointing inside. Her eyes snapped from all the corners of the pharmacy, her ears listening out for any groans; but at the same time, she could feel Daryl’s presence behind her.

“Sounds all clear” Renée allowed Glenn and Maggie to enter, following slowly after, her gun at her side. As she entered the shop, the whole area was dark, the lights had long been past their time by now; Glenn opened his backpack and shoved every type of medicine he could find into it with Maggie checking the back to make sure there were no walkers there. Renée sighed and shoved her gun back in its holster on her jeans, looking back to Daryl she saw him looking around some of the shelves of the women’s hygiene section.

Renée walked over, inspecting what he had in his hands with her eyebrows raised.

“Uh Daryl, why are you holding tampons?” Renée asked, he quickly looked around, not realising she was there.

“I-I uh…don’t you…need…”

Renée began laughing at his innocence, looking into his eyes, “I don’t think any of the women have had a period in a looooooong time, Daryl” Renée smiled. He looked very confused, still holding the tampons in his hand making Renée smile even more because it wasn’t a sight she thought she would see.

“I thought it was…you know…a monthly thing” he raised his eyebrows, confused still. Renée smiled still,

“When it's the apocalypse, I think that's the least of our worries” she told him, Daryl looked at Renée like women were some mystical creature, “Also, I don’t need tampons"

“Oh yeah”

He placed the pack awkwardly back on the shelf and followed Renée to Glenn, “You get everything?” she asked, he shook his head, motioning to Maggie who was in the back. She was struggling with a door, trying to push it open.

Renée jogged over and added her own body weight to the door and with the third push, it was finally open. But they didn’t find more medicine; instead they’d stumbled right into a yard full of walkers;

“Shit” Renée cursed, rushing Maggie back into the pharmacy, but it was too late. She wasn’t able to close the door as walkers began piling up, their hands frantically reaching out, groaning with their disgusting faces. She held the door closed as she looked behind,

“You need to get out the front!” Renée shouted, the walker managing to slowly open the door. When Renée looked back, she saw all three of her companions fighting; stabbing and shooting walkers that had somehow reached the front.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Renée withdrew her machete and stabbed the walker in between the door right through the skull and it fell to the ground, only to be replaced by another dozen trying to get through the door. Renée did the only thing her mind could comprehend at the time, she ran towards a ladder that lead to the attic of the store. Looking back, Maggie and Glenn were out of sight,

 

“Daryl!” she shouted, he saw Renée and ran towards her, following her up the ladder to the attic. At the hatch, Renée pushed against it, hoping it would open. Daryl pushed past her, using one hand to twist the knob and fling the hatch open. He climbed up first, offering his hand to her still clinging to the ladder. She quickly grabbed it but felt pulled down suddenly. Her eyes widened as she looked down, one hand still held by Daryl and one hand grabbing her ankle, a walker hanging on the other end. She watched and thrashed around as the dead being tried to bite at her ankle. 

  
"Renée! Other hand!" 

 

Renée tried to pull her own body up so she could reach his other hand, but found she was unable to. The walker grabbed at her foot, taking off one of her shoes, she kicked around as its teeth became closer and closer to her flesh. She looked up and with all her strength pushed herself up to join Daryl's other hand. He quickly pulled her up, almost throwing her along the ground as he closed the hatch. She was breathing heavy, having spent all her strength. 

 

"What the fuck was that!" he shouted at her, she looked at him confused, "Ya coulda got yourself killed!"

 

"What?"  


"Ya put yourself in danger! The fuck were you thinkin'!"

 

She propped herself up on her elbows, still confused,

"You think I put myself in these situations for fun?"

 

RE WRITE THIS

 

Renée walked quickly down the road, clearly trying to avoid Daryl’s gaze. He was confused, so he chased after her,

“What you doin’?” he asked, walking next to her. She was silent for a moment,

“Walking home” she replied.

 

He stepped in front of her, making her look at him, “Renée, c’mon now what’s wrong?” he asked, his arms pleading for an answer, “A minute ago ya were all smiles”

She crossed her arms, looking away and being silent for a few seconds, “We need to get back before dark” she said, pushing past Daryl, leaving him for a moment, very confused.

 

* * *

 

It was nightfall when Renée and Daryl finally reached the prison, Renée pushed past everyone’s questions and went straight inside, to which everyone looked at Daryl. He shrugged, unable to tell them what was wrong and he sluggishly walked towards the heap of weapons, dumping his handgun on the pile, huffing and walking away, running into Maggie on the way.

“Oh my gosh, Daryl! We were just about to—” she said hurriedly, Daryl raised a hand excusing her,

“It’s fine”

He was about to walk away, “What’s wrong?” she asked, genuinely concerned, having seen Renée storm off without saying anything also. Daryl looked back at the worried brunette and shrugged, “Did something happen with you and Renée?”

“uh…” he paused, wondering if he should tell her. But she was a woman, maybe she’d be able to decode Renée’s feelings right now, “well…back at the pharmacy, me and Renée…” he stared at Maggie, she raised an eyebrow, “…yeah…but afterwards she went cold on me. Telling me nothin’s wrong”

Crossing her arms, Maggie thought for a moment, then looked at Daryl, “Well…is she…your first?” she asked. He furrowed his eyebrows,

“My first what?” Maggie held her breath, “Oh…well, first serious one yeah”

“Hmm….” She paused, thinking about her question hard before asking, “Well there comes my second question…do you love her?”

The question caught Daryl off guard, he’d never even thought about that. His mind went blank and his mind skipped back to the look Renée gave him that afternoon, a different look in her eyes sent a cold shiver down his spine. He’s never loved….well anyone before, he didn’t know how it felt to be in love.

“…I don’t even know”

“Well…you’re very close, the two o’ you, would you do anything for her?”

Oh now she was asking the serious questions and Daryl couldn’t stay still, he knew he liked Renée very, very much; but how was he supposed to separate that to love when he’d never felt that before?

“Sure I would” he replied, clearly uncomfortable. Maggie smiled, knowing he means well, but can’t quite show it.

“Renée is…difficult…emotionally. If you don’t know…talk to her” she advised, Daryl took in a deep breath and looked at Maggie, seeing her smile hopefully.

 

“Thanks” 


	8. Chapter 8

Renée sighed as she pushed the car door shut, one hand grasping her handgun and the other holding the cartridge, ready to reload. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, not having time to tie it up before she was hurried off onto a run; she looked up towards Glenn and Maggie, being their usual playful self. 

 

Renée rolled her eyes, the last thing she needed to see was puppy love right in front of her, when she couldn’t;t have it herself.

 

Maggie looked up to see Renée reloading all the guns that were currently in the back seat, noticing her less happy aura and the dark circles under her eyes. With the impression that she was worried, Maggie walked up to the other woman who she considered to be her best friend by now. But Renée didn’t even look up to acknowledge her. 

“Renée, what’s the matter” she asked, obviously knowing that something was wrong. 

Renée had finally looked up to regard her Southern friend, but merely shrugged her shoulders without a change of emotion, “Nothing’s the matter”

 

For a moment Maggie said nothing, torn between pushing fro the truth or potentially crossing a line, but leaning against the car with her arms crossed. Maggie pushed for answers from the quiet Brit, “Ya expect me to believe that?”

 

Renée only laughed out her nose and looked up to the short haired woman again, placing her gun on top of the car. She clicked her fingers, looking off into the distance, “Can’t get anything by you, can I?”

 

Maggie cocked her head.

 

“Okay fine. Was up all night last night, ok?”

 

“Doing what”

 

The long haired woman sighed, thinking back to the night before. Knowing that Daryl was on the other side of the wall, maybe or maybe not the same thing. 

 

“Overthinking mostly. About Daryl”

 

Maggie nodded, “He’s a tough one to figure out”

 

“No, it’s not that” Maggie had looked over with eyebrows raised questionably, “I just…don’t want to be just a ‘thing’”

 

Maggie now looked confused, “What d’you mean?”

 

Renée thought about her next words very carefully before saying them, “Just don’t want to be a fling and then he forgets about me in a few months time. I’d like…maybe something more”

 

“Like I said, he’s a toughie. But you’ll figure it out. Ya need to think that you deserve it first, not just him” 

 

She sighed again, “I just don’t want to scare him off”

 

“And why would you do that”

 

She could see that Renée was fidgety, busy thinking about something in her mind and so could not entirely concentrate on her surroundings.

 

“I uh…lost a baby…a while ago now. And now I…can’t have any more. Now isn’t the time but there’s a lot to explain”

 

Maggie nodded, “I got all the time in the world, Renée” she smiled. 

 

Renée gave her a sad smile back, knowing that she wanted to know. She lowered her voice so that Glenn wouldn’t hear them, “When Rick and Daryl found me I’d been a few months free from being held captive”

 

“And uh…it’s hard to explain but, I was held somewhere where I was at a man’s disposal…”

 

Maggie was confused for a moment, before finally understanding, “Oh…?”

 

“The baby was his but I couldn’t keep it and from what I was told her did…I can’t have any more…” Renée searched for Maggie’s reaction, but she was just shocked. 

 

“Does Daryl know?”

 

She nodded, “Yeah, I had a go at him at the shack that night. Made everything clear”

 

And finally Maggie understood what her father had been telling her. About the scars all over her body, about the manner in which she was found. It had all made sense. And at first, Maggie had judged her harshly for being so reserved. But with this reasoning, she couldn’t help but feel bad in herself for having done so. 

 

“Does the group know?”

 

She shook her head, “Don’t want them to” 

 

Maggie nodded, “Fair enough” 

After a moment of silence, Maggie spoke up again, “Look, all I’m gonna say is. Daryl is absolutely struck by you. I’ve never seen him this happy and perky in a long time. I know things suck when you don’t want what they’re thinking but please…just give it time. It will all work out, promise” 

 

The long haired woman thought about it for a while, but nodded eventually. Stubborn, but she had to agree with her. 

 

“I believe you” 

 

The two women grabbed their weapons and made a start towards Glenn, having lifted some of the tension in the air. 

 

“What was that about?” he asked. Maggie shrugged,

“None of your goddamn business”

“Daryl?”

“You could say that”

“I won’t pry, we need to scout this place” Glenn replied, smiling at Maggie she leaned in for a kiss on his cheek, earning a small blush from the man.

It wasn’t even ten seconds later when Glenn heard Maggie shout and before he knew it she was held down to the ground, a knife pressed to her throat, trapped by the man Glenn remembered as Merle, now donning a new blade in the place where his hand used to be.

 

Glenn’s eyes were wide open at Merle’s smiling face, his gun was also pointed at his head, ready to shoot if he hurt Maggie. Soonafter, Renée ran over, her gun pointed also; Merle reached to his pocket and pointed a small gun towards Renée before she could even draw,

“Be a good gal and put that down” his southern accent didn’t surprise Renée, it was the same as Daryl’s but this man’s voice was deeper, “Unless you want a bullet in ya friend’s brain?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. With a bitter look on her face, Renée threw the gun over to Merle, having no choice but to kneel with her hands on her head.

“Check you out, Glenn. Two foxy li’l ladies out wiccha?”

“Shut up” he snapped, Merle almost laughed out loud,

“Think you’re hot shit?” he asked, the knife pressed into Maggie more, Glenn noticeably shifted, “Join yer little friend there and I won’t hurt your precious lady”.

Glenn stared at Maggie for a moment, but decided against what she was probably thinking and placed his gun on the ground and knelt next to Renée, hands also on his head. Merle forced Maggie into the same position next to Renée as he circled them, the blade catching the sun.

“Well nice to see ya, Glenn. Nice of ya to visit me after whaccha did to me” Merle commented,

“Merle, please” Glenn attempted to reason with him but it was no use. He stopped behind Renée and used the other end of his gun to hit her on the back of the head, rendering her unconscious. Maggie was about to retaliate until the same thing happened to her, passed out on the concrete.

“I don’t know who these people are and I don’t much care, but you’re comin’ with me”, Merle said, jamming the end of the gun into Glenn’s head too.

 

* * *

 

 

She could feel her own pulse in her head. The blood was rushing around her body so quickly it made her feel dizzy, like she was going to be sick. Her eyelids were barely open, looking at nothing. And she struggled to even blink at some points. And all she could hear were the two men in the room, talking about all the things they were going to do to her.

“Gotta hand it to ya. Good job, gettin’ ‘em all in” The Governor congratulated Merle as they sat opposite one another at the table in front of Renee. The Governor had a drink in his hand that smelled of pure alcohol, but the glass itself was barely full at all. He took a sip and seemed to wince at how it tasted, before exhaling pleasurably. As if the drink had soothed the right place. He placed the patterned glass on the table watching how old blood had collected in the workings of the wood. It made it so it didn’t smell very inviting in that room.

“Just did what I came ‘ere to do, Sir” Merle replied. He had a gruff voice on, forced almost. You just knew in the back of his mind he had not wanted this. Not for his little brother. And even though he would rather not admit it, he knew that the woman restrained in that chair was very important to Daryl. But for the sake of having an easy day, had not said anything.

“Who’re the girls” he asked, but did not finish the question off, rather ordering an answer.

Merle merely shrugged, an uncaring façade on his features, “They’re bait now”

The Governor looked over at the woman in the chair, her hands were tied to the arms by her wrists with belts. She had a few minor cuts on the side of her forehead from where she hit the ground and a trail of blood down the back of her neck from where Merle had hit her.

He stared at her like she belonged to him, which of course she did not. Her clothes hung a bit loose on her body, indicating to him that she was a slight woman. The kind that he liked.

“Bring the other one in”

Merle obeyed immediately and opened the door, beckoning for The Governor’s men to bring Maggie through, who they had restrained. She wasn’t going down without a fight though, she was screaming, kicking, elbowing every person who tried to hold her back. There was no taming her. There was a cloth stuffed into her mouth to stop her from screaming too loudly.

She had angry eyes as Maggie stood before the Governor. His were perverted and unnervingly calm as he stared the other brunette up and down, wondering about all the things he could do to her.

  
If Maggie was anything she was a stubborn woman, a strong-willed Southern woman at that. Capture or not, she was unlikely to back down to this man before her. Possibly to her own disadvantage.

“So you’re the one with the Asian, right?” he asked rhetorically. But Maggie gave him nothing. He loomed over her, nodding, as if admiring.

“Why be with him…” he raised his hand to touch her shoulder with his palm, “…when I could give ya so much more”

His voice was deep, frightening. He was trying and succeeding to be intimidating. And for the two captive women, the possibilities sounded so close that they didn’t want them to be true. Maggie instinctively shoved her shoulder, getting his dirty hands off her body. But the man was still smiling and she all of a sudden became afraid that he had formed a plan.

“Get out” the two men who were holding Maggie in her stance immediately let go, pulling the now damp cloth from her mouth and promptly left. Leaving all but the two women alone with the other two men. The feeling of danger settled in Maggie’s bones.

“Take it off” he ordered without hesitation. Maggie clenched her fists, her eyes flickering over to Renee’s weak form, angry. She looked back at the man and shook her head no, defiant as always.

“I won’t” she said. Confident in herself that she would uphold this promise to herself.

He almost chuckled.

“Maggie…don’t…” Renee’s little voice cried out behind the pain. And almost as soon as the words came out, the Governor delivered as much of his force behind his fists, right between her ribs. Knocking all the wind from her. Maggie covered her mouth as the other woman was keeled over in pain, the faintest tears forming a film over her eyes.

Without even thinking the man, grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back up. He had pulled out a long, thin knife that looked almost exactly like a letter-opener. Something that Maggie knew would slice right through her neck if he had wanted it to. Renee held absolutely still, eyes on Maggie all the time.

“You friends?”

Neither replied.

“Well, if ya want your friend’s neck to stay closed, take off your fucking shirt”

Renee gave the slightest gesture to Maggie, begging her not to, even if it meant her death. Knowing how assaults much like this felt meant a lot to Renee. She could not sit back and just watch her friend be subjected to the same.

With her eyes staring straight at him, Maggie threw off her shirt and silence filled the room as he smiled at her. He pushed the knife into Renee’s neck slightly harder and said quietly,

“Go on”

She hesitated and Renee could feel her fists clenching.  

“I can bring Glenn’s hand in here if you want”

As if defeated in spirit, Maggie unclasped her bra and almost as soon as it came off, covered herself with her hands. Happy with himself, the governor sauntered over to the woman, who was staying grounded by looking at her friend, offering sorrowful glances to each other. The governor ran one finger over her short brown hair.

“No” Renee said, regaining some of her strength back. The governor peered over at the woman, smirking in victory only slightly, “Not her”

The governor was almost surprised at the once weak woman’s sudden outburst to protect her friend. But Maggie began to shake her head, knowing exactly what was going through her head. He grabbed Maggie by the shoulder and showed her out of the cold, metal room. All the while Maggie attempted to fight back,

“Renee, don’t do this. You can’t!”

“Take her back to her other half” he ordered the men behind the door.

And Renee was by herself. Just her and the Governor.

“Your man is in there too, you know”

He sat down at the other end of the table, eyes never leaving her.

“So anythin’ _you_ don’t say…I’ll get out of him instead. Clear?”

“He’s got nothing to tell you either and you’ll get nothing from me” she said. Defiant much like Maggie was.

“Both feisty, I’ll give ya that. Where you from?” he asked, trying and failing to act like he was being nice.

“None of your business”

“Oh, sweetheart, _everything_ is my business. Where…are you from?”

“England”

“I guessed as much. Ain’t they all polite over there?”

“Not me” she replied hastily.

He chuckled, almost amused by her fiery demeanour. He had made his way around her, his hands resting on the arms of the chair beside Renee’s head in an attempt to frighten her.

“Now…all this bad stuff can go away. Just tell me where the rest are…and we’ll take ya home”

Renee was quiet, unmoving. “It’s just us”

She heard how his fingers tightened around the wooden chair, making little splinters in the hard wood. He was getting impatient. And angrier by the second. His right hand quickly snapped up and wrapped around her neck, squeezing tightly, crushing her throat.

“Don’t you fuckin’ play with me. Tell me where you’re hiding”

Renee stayed silent, trying so desperately to get some air past her lips. She could feel how hard his fingertips were pressing into the thin skin of her throat, her head began to feel hot until he eventually released and she inhaled sharply. Her throat aching for the oxygen almost made it burn.

“I see this ain’t gonna be easy” he said, looking her up and down. It was clear he was a particular kind of man, the kind of man who treats women a certain way.

Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, he lifted his hand to her shoulder, his fingers sliding over her skin, shining with sweat. Renee stopped in her tracks, unsure of what to do. She had known all along, judging the way he treated Maggie, but now she was fully sure what might happen to her in this cold dark room. She felt her heart beat faster at the prospect and even she herself couldn’t deny that she was scared. Instinctively, she pressed her thighs closer together, protecting herself almost.

She tried to keep her face as hard as she could, to deter him.  She shrugged her shoulder to get his hand off her, but that only made the grip on her stronger. This wasn’t about arousal or sexual pleasure for him. It was about power. The most dangerous kind. The thought of vulnerability to him was immensely important and he remembered that her other half was tied up with a walker in the other room. Most likely dead at this point. It was at this moment that the Governor remembered that Merle was still in the room, hiding in the shadows of the corner.

Merle wasn’t enjoying this one bit. He knew what she was to Daryl and he still said nothing. The governor looked up at Merle with a smug look on his face,

“Merle, go check on her other half, would ya. Dispose of him how you see fit”

Merle wordlessly went to leave, his eyes resting on Renee’s for a moment. And even though she did not know him, she begged with her gaze, for him not to leave. For she knew what would happen when he did. Her eyes were covered by a wet film and she was trying her best not to think of her past, with his hand on her shoulder. There were a few moments where Merle and Renee shared this glance before he shook it off and left, the guilt settling in on the back of his neck.

Renee sighed, that even trembling slightly with her fear. He stood behind her fumbling with something that sounded like clothing. He pulled out a knife and cut the tape that bound her hands. Renee knew better than to assume she was being let free.

“Now…I’m gonna ask you one last time before I lose my patience…” he said, so close to her ear that he was nearly touching it.

“Where are you hiding”

There was a long silence. Renee wasn’t even thinking of her answer, she just completely ignored him.

But the Governor simply sighed, leaned back and slipped off his belt, wrapping a loop around his fist, he stepped back.

  
“Get up”

Again Renee pretended to not hear him. But she knew she wouldn’t get away with it for much longer.

“Get. Up” he repeated. Renee stood slowly, not giving him the benefit of his own time. He was after all, getting impatient. It was clear from the tone of his voice that he was completely willing to hurt her if she did not obey. Renee on the other hand, became under the impression, that in her life, she had already been subjected to pain and there was no point in pretending that this was going to be any more painful. That is why she stepped into Maggie’s place. Renee has been through this before. But now she wasn’t so sure if she’d survive.

“Take off your shirt”

Renee clenched her fists in her hands, shaking.

“No” she replied, defiant and so sure of herself.

The Governor sighed again, impatient and quite frankly, enraged by her strong will. He stepped forward and made a small cut at the top of her shirt, quickly pulling the two sides apart to reveal her back. The fabric made a loud ripping sound as he unclothed her, pulling the sleeves down her arms forcefully, he discarded it to the floor. But Renee kept her stance, unwilling and unbroken by his words and physical attacks.

Knowing that she would not do so herself, he took the knife again and cut the band of her bra off. Leaving her in a state similar to Maggie’s previously, Renee could feel the anger flowing through her thinking about her friend in such a position. So vulnerable, but yet so needing strength.

He threw the garment across the room, his grip on the belt tightening ever so slightly at the excitement of what he was about to do. He would not hide his excitement, he enjoyed letting them know he liked what hurt them. And in this case, as soon as he walked into the room, he had known what he wanted to do. Whether it caused pain or not.

Renee covered her now exposed chest with her arms and hands, even though he could not see them. She felt on show, like not a person, but a piece of meat to be spied upon and carved up for the slaughter. The way her back moved when she covered herself made the Governor almost audibly groan out in need, he could feel the angry flame burning inside of him, transformed almost instantly into arousal.

“Last chance now”

“Go to hell” Renee hissed in pure hatred.

Almost instantly, he raised the belt high and hit Renee’s back with it with the utmost force. Renee let out a groan of pain, trying to keep her reactions subtle so that it wouldn’t spur him on. But almost as soon as the pain dissipated, the second strike came on the same spots, igniting the same pain. She could almost put herself in the same position 20 or so years earlier, when she was a little girl getting hit by her father. Telling her in Spanish to take off her shirt and stand in the corner to be hit. His belt seemed bigger at the time, but as a woman now, it felt small and centralised. Much more painful now than ever before.

After the fifth strike or so, Renee kept herself standing by leaning on the table. Feeling the trickles of blood make their way down her back as he kept going and going. He seemed out of breath by the tenth strike, to be honest, Renee wasn’t counting them. She was counting down the minutes when the pain would finally stop. But it never did.

It felt like agonising minutes until he had finally stopped. Dropping the belt on the floor, he immediately stepped forward and placed his hand against her back. Renee cried out in pain as he touched her sensitive, bloody indents in her back. But he pushed against her, making her head hit the table in front of her, her front flush with it.

His hand dragged down her back, smearing the blood all over herself, his fingers triggering small snippets of pain. His hands stopped at her jeans, looping one of his fingers around the top of them. It was here Renee prepared herself, closed her eyes shut tight, and knew what was coming.

“I’m going to kill you” she said quietly, her body’s weakness showing in her voice. He only laughed through his nose as he pulled her jeans down and kicked her legs apart, revealing her underwear to him. He admired her for a moment, in his head imagining all the things he could do.

“That’s what they all say” he replied. Already hard and pleased with himself he pulled himself from his underwear and shifted her underwear over, trying to shove himself into her harshly. Renee tried to contain the pain that struck its way through her body now, for he didn’t care if she was ready or not. He wanted his fill when he wanted it.

Renee closed her eyes tightly, one of his hands still on her back, keeping her down against the table. That coupled with the shooting pain in her lower regions, bought the slightest of tears to her eyes. And she stayed there in absolute silence, save for the few groans of pain she emitted. He had no mercy for her body that had already been through much more. He raped her forcefully and he raped her mercilessly. And she could only think of the look of disgust on Daryl’s face when he eventually would find out…if he was even alive anymore.

His hand grabbed her hair as he continued, trying for his release. She could feel the familiar tug of pain on her follicles, the way he grabbed her and the way he abused her…she knew she had to kill him now. This is what he would have done to her dear friend, Maggie. He had tortured, assaulted and possibly killed all the people she held the dearest to her. And for that…he had to pay.

Silent minutes went by slowly. But strangely she felt relieved when he had finally reached his peak with a loud groan and an obnoxious laugh, he pulled out of her and tucked himself away. His hand coming down from her hair, down her neck and down her back once more. He simply muttered a ‘thank you’ smugly before exiting the room and locking the door behind him. Renee eventually let that tear run down her cheek, thinking that she was in the same position once again, her lower half burning in pain. And as she tried to push herself off the table, she found she couldn’t do it.


	9. Chapter 9

Echoes of shouting, the thudding of their footsteps. Everyone was running around like headless chickens with the thick smoke from the smoke bomb they planted in the halls; Daryl with his crossbow poised and loaded was the first to check all of the rooms, finding Glenn and Maggie first. Maggie clutched at a blanket around her to hide her bare chest, while Glenn guided her out the door,

“C’mon, quick! The car’s outside!” Daryl shouted, looking in the room, “Where’s Renée?!”

Glenn coughed as the smoke entered his lungs; the whole place was catching fire. Daryl would have to find Renée quickly if she was passed out somewhere. Hurriedly, he checked the rest of the nearby rooms, finding nobody there. He kicked another door to find a tall, burly man’s silhouette in the midst of the smoke, the man turned around, a gun in his hand. Daryl lowered his weapon, seeing the familiar features of the man,

“Merle?” he asked, the older man opposite him was just as awestruck,

“Daryl” he almost whispered the words, pretending to be surprised. Another explosion cause the ground to wobble beneath them,

“Quick! We gotta go!” Daryl shouted, Merle quickly tagged along beside his little brother, “Have you seen a woman, dark hair?” Daryl asked. Merle held a stoic face, remembering the teary-eyed woman he’d left with the Governor not one hour ago. 

“Merle?!”

“Yeah, she’s though there!” Merle shouted back, aggravated now. Daryl pushed the locked door down and immediately spluttered; the room was clouded with a lot more smoke.

“Renée!” he shouted, looking around desperately. He had never though a few weeks ago that he’d wanted her to come out of this alive. But here he was, completely enamoured by her, wanting her to be safe at least. 

 

Weapon raised, he caught sight of a body unconscious sprawled out on the table. It was unmistakable. The dark long hair, the pale skin and the burn marks all over her shoulders. Renée. 

 

He felt his breath become choked up in his throat. She was completely naked from the waist up, blood was seeping out of various cuts on her back and her jeans had been pulled down over her backside. She wasn’t moving, letting Daryl fear the worst. 

 

He reached his hand out, desperately wanting to feel her warm skin and at least a pulse. He looked over and saw that her eyes were barely open, her pulse murmured, but there. He took off his own shirt and placed it on her shoulders, her own in a tangled mess on the floor. She stirred slightly as he wrapped the shirt around her, the red blood seeping through the fabric almost instantly. 

 

“Stop…” she said quietly, Daryl sighed sadly as he cradled the woman in his arms. 

 

“Renée it’s a’ight, it’s me”

 

He pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair gently. 

 

“…m sorry, Daryl…”

He picked her up wordlessly, her limp head resting in the crook of his neck. His heart ached at the thoughts of what the Governor could have done to her and that he could do nothing to protect her. 

 

* * *

 

“Hello, beautiful” the governor said, Renée’s look couldn’t be more dirty if she tried. She was in immense pain, physically and mentally; his hand came up to her chin but she backed away, clutching the blanket around her chest. The governor smiled as he pushed her to the ground, her back facing the two men and the residents of Woodbury.

“Who she belong to?” he asked both the men. When neither of them replied, the governor ripped the blanket from her grasp, exposing her whipped, freshly bleeding back to everybody. Renée began to cry as she covered her chest with her hands. Daryl visibly reacted and the governor had noticed, “She’s yours, huh?” he said, running his hand all over her aching back, Renée winced in pain, “Lucky man” he smiled.

“If one of y’all doesn’t die in the next five minutes” he started, taking a gun out of his pocket and reloading it, “I’ll shoot her in the head”. The barrel of the gun tapped at Renée’s head and she cried harder, the cold hair hitting her badly wounded back; thinking this was the end, she heard the two fighting behind her.

Not even three minutes into them fighting, gunshots, smoke bombs filled the air and Renée cowered as she heard them. Turning around to see the governor was not there, she felt a hand grab her arm and turned to see Daryl. Quickly, throwing a blanket over her he shouted, “C’mon!”

As quick as she was able she followed the man named Merle with the others, now reunited, with the exception of Glenn and Michonne. The echoing sound of gunshots and the groaning of the walkers around her, traumatising her already filled head.

Night somehow turned to Day and Maggie had given Renée an extra shirt, telling Renée about what the governor had done to her as well. Whereas, Renée stayed far too silent; Daryl followed behind with Merle, anticipating what would happen.

The reception to Merle wasn’t good, Maggie made sure Renée was out of harms way as she backed the older woman behind her, the argument becoming more…vocally loud. It wasn’t long before everyone just got tired of the sound of Merle’s voice and rather rightly decided to silence him, as he lay on the floor with drool coming out his mouth. Daryl looked wearily and worriedly to Renée, who hadn’t looked or talked to him the whole night.

“It won’t work” Rick said,

“It’s gotta” Daryl argued.

“It’ll stir things up”

“Look the governor’s probably on his way to the prison right now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle” Daryl attempted so hard to reason with Rick, but with little success from any of the group.

“I’m not having him at the prison” Maggie said quietly,

“He had a gun to our head” Glenn said with a hint of anger in his voice,

“And Renée…” Maggie said, Daryl looked towards her and saw that she was sat in the back seat of the car, head in her hands, as if she was crying.  Daryl bit his lip,

“What happened to her…” he asked, trying hard not to let his emotions get the better of him. Maggie just looked upon him sadly, her eyes flicking to the floor.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol, Beth or Renée?” Glenn asked,

“He ain’t a rapist”

“Well, his buddy is”

Anger welled up in Daryl when he said that, knowing that something similar might have happened to Renée. But at this point he didn’t think to ask her, or comfort her; it was something he wasn’t used to.

The rest of the useless conversation was trying to get Daryl to leave Merle behind, but he wasn’t having it, “Fine, we’ll fend for ourselves”

They were obviously unhappy with his decision, “Say bye to your pop for me” he said walking past Maggie. She followed shortly behind, taking his arm and pulling him back,

“Daryl think of Renée!” she argued, he turned to her slightly, reluctance and pain in his eyes, “She ain’t in no state…”

“Clearly, she hasn’t said a word to me this whole way”

“She’s afraid, Daryl. She’s been hurt…”

“If she was really hurt she’d talk to me about it” Daryl huffed, getting annoyed he walked past Renée and opened the back of the car, arguing with Rick some more.

“Daryl?” a familiar voice spoke up, laced with fear and pain. He looked up to see Renée, standing next to Rick with a pained look on her face, “You’re not leaving…” she said, tears in her eyes.

“I gotta” he said, packing his things. She placed her hand on his arm but he flinched and pulled away, “He’s my brother”

“Please don’t go” she almost begged, tears falling down her cheeks,

“Now you’re talkin’ to me huh?” he said, his angry eyes burning into her. She was shocked,

“Daryl…I—”

“Don’t wanna hear it” he said flinging his bag over his shoulder. Her sadness turned into a rage, but in her heart, she was breaking.

“So that’s it then? You leave me after all this, after all you’ve said to me, after all we’ve done?!” she pushed on his arm slightly, he turned around and pushed her back slightly,

“Well clearly whatever the hell happened back there wasn’t too much for ya, otherwise you’d tell me. Besides…probably used to it by now”

Fury built up inside Renée as her palm slapped across Daryl’s face, leaving a burning red mark on the left side of his face. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he looked at her again, holding his cheek; there was no anger in his eyes anymore.

“Fuck you, Daryl Dixon! Fuck you, for thinking someone like me could be loved by someone like you! Fuck you, for making me feel this way! And if you really must know…” she paused, taking a deep breath, “…what you think he did, is exactly what he did. And your little friend here” she said pointing to Merle, “watched the whole thing happen” she said bitterly. That fact made Daryl’s face go blank and a flash of realisation came across his face, immediately regretting everything he had said while talking to her. He reached his hand out but she harshly slapped it away,

“No!” she pushed him , palms on his chest, tears down her face, “You don’t get to do that…it’s very clear by now…who’s more important”

“Renée…” he whispered,

“No” she didn’t shout, but she said it so sternly it sent a shiver down his spine, “Fuck. You”

The last thing that Daryl saw was his love, angry at him, getting in the car and driving away. And it was in that moment he knew that he loved her. He knew this because when she left, his heart began to hurt.


	10. Chapter 10

The car ride back to the prison was too quiet. Renée sat in the back seat with Maggie, her friends hand lovingly placed on her knee to comfort her having seen what happened with Daryl. But Renée’s thoughts were not focussed on the hand on her knee, but of the man she just left behind…no, the man that left **her** behind.

She remembered the look on his face after she slapped him and she immediately regretted doing it, but it made him realise just how selfish he was being. But at the same time, Renée knew that he hadn’t seen his brother in who knows how long, so in that respect she understood.

“Renée…” Maggie whispered, she looked towards her friend, “C’mon”. Renée hadn’t even realised they had arrived until she’d said that, too caught up in her own little world. Thinking about how lost she would be. Thinking about how she’d felt before she’d met Daryl. Violated. Alone. Afraid. Much like how she felt now.

With one hand on Renée’s shoulder, Maggie lead her inside, followed by the worried glances of everyone that had been in the car. There was a lifelessness to Renée’s personality now that was not there before; even when she’d first come to the prison, she wasn’t as silent, or stoic as this.

“Lemme clean you up” Maggie said, leading her into her own cell. Maggie left to grab the first aid kit and a bucket of warm water while Renée sat herself on a stool, staring at the brick walls. She took the hem of her shirt in both her hands and flung the shirt over her head, the cold of the prison hitting the wounds on her back. Maggie stood in the doorway, watching as she took the shirt off and as she saw the marks a sad feeling came over her.

The younger woman took a seat behind her, bringing the sponge up to her back carefully, she touched her skin and Renée instantly hissed in pain, a low groan coming from her throat.

“Sorry” Maggie apologised, but had to keep going. She wiped the blood from her back and as the liquid fell to the ground mixed with the water Maggie sighed, “I’m sorry for this….you should never have been involved”

Renée didn’t respond, so Maggie kept cleaning her back.

“We didn’t tell you about the Governor because we thought we’d have no issue with him. And all I can do is apologise; maybe if I’d have told ya it wouldn’t have happened”

She was silent again.

“Renée…Daryl is…”

“Stop” she cut off her sentence, pain was present in her voice, Maggie was softer with her actions now, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. You’re heartbroken”

There was another silence, a silence of realisation,

“I’ve never been heartbroken before” Renée answered, Maggie raised one eyebrow in shock.

“First love, huh?”

Renée nodded.

“I’ve been told they hurt the most” Renée said, Maggie nodded sadly,

“He loves you, Renée” Maggie stated, Renée bit her lip trying hard to hold the tears back as she stared at the floor, more blood dripping to the ground with the water, “Before he met you…he was miserable, antisocial. Loyal but…always hidden away”

Renée couldn’t hold it in any longer; she bought her hands to her face and cried through her fingers. Maggie rested her hand on her shoulder as comfort,

“If he loved me….why”

“Because he’s never been in love before, Renée” with that information, her hands dropped to her sides, “He doesn’t realise what he’s missing… “

Renée reached back and held the hand that was on her shoulder, Maggie rubbed her thumb over her hand, “Renée I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now—”

“And yet it’s something I’ve been through before…” she answered bleakly, all the emotion drained from her face. Maggie sighed and began bandaging up her back, going over her chest, her whole torso now a white sheet of bloodstained pain.

 

* * *

 

Daryl had been stood in the same spot for a while now, the stinging on his cheek still there where her hand had been.

“Damn she got you whipped, li’l brother” Merle said, Daryl didn’t reply, he just lead the way further into the forest, where his older brother was still making comments.

“You don’t believe ‘er do ya? Who is she anyway. Sounds like hard work to me”

“Shut up” Daryl said harshly, his older brother merely laughed,

“She got ya good” she laughed, Daryl turned to his brother and shot him an angered glance,

“Told ya to shut up!”

The air was filled with a baby’s cry. “Ya hear that?”

“Yep, probably nothin’”

“It’s a baby”

Daryl sprinted off towards the river.

…

The crossbow was pointed directly at Merle and for a moment Daryl actually thought about what would happen if he pulled the trigger, but he lowered his weapon and started towards the forest, his angered brother following behind.

“What the fuck was that?” Merle asked,

“Getting your stupid ass out of other people’s business”

“Hey listen you li’l shi—”

“Answer me this, Merle. Were you there when Renée was being tortured?!” he snapped, his eyes digging into Merle’s. His older brother’s expression now turned heavy, almost guilty. Daryl could tell because his eyes were darting everywhere else to avoid his,

“I-I…uh…” Daryl waited for the response, “I saw her…he was whipping her”

Daryl scoffed and turned around, disgusted.

“I didn’t know, Daryl!”

“Did you see her…”

“Did I see her get raped?” Merle asked, Daryl met his older brother’s eyes, “No, Daryl, I didn’t. And now that I know, Daryl, honestly I feel shitty. I ain’t like that”

“So what you wanna go to the prison with me?”

“Yeah cos that’ll go well”

“Your own damn fault, I went back for you and you weren’t there. You were always the one to leave”

Merle, overcome with rage, pushed Daryl down to the ground, ripping his shirt in the process. His body froze as he stared at his brother’s back, the purple strips of scars covered his skin, the same scars that Merle had.

After staring at his back for a quiet moment, the two exchanged very few words upon the realisation of their tattered and beaten past that they now realised they shared. Daryl, with hurt eyes, looked upon his broken brother,

“I may be the one walking away, but you’re the one that’s leavin’”

And Merle was left to ponder once again about which side, which person and which path he should take. And hoping that, Michonne, Renée or Glenn didn’t kill him; he followed his brother’s footsteps.

 

* * *

 

Hours seemed to have passed and Renée had eventually set outside, a loose shirt showing the bandages across her chest and her back, stained slightly with blood. She carried her pistol at her side as she accompanied Maggie through the prison,

“Holy shit, what happened to her?” The blonde prison inmate named Axel asked Carol, she merely shrugged, a solemn expression on her face,

“God knows and I think that kinda business should stay there” Carol knew exactly what happened, Maggie had told her in whispers so that she would not be triggered, “Poor thing”

“Yeah I knew a lot of guys in prison who did horrible things…” he said, Carol shot a worried glance, “…yeah I’m talkin’ bout rapists. It ain’t hard to spot a girl who’s been mistreated like that”

“That’s a bit worrying” Carol joked, Axel laughed,

“Yeah. But I’ve always been good at readin’ people. Hell one time my brothe—”

A bullet shot through his head and he fell to the ground, on the other end. The Governor. Renée withdrew her gun, looking for everyone who was currently out in the yard. Rick, Hershel, Maggie, Carol, Michonne.

Bullets filled the air as Renée tried to take cover behind one of the cars parked nearest to the prison, a string of bullets surrounded the area she was hidden at and she knew it was the governor trying to kill her. And she was right, as he smiled behind his gun.

Before long, a van came crashing through the gates and parked in the middle of the yard, dangerously close to where Hershel and Michonne were. Renée stared as the back of the van opened and a herd of walkers walked out, heading straight for Hershel.

“Shit…” Renée aimed for as many as she could but also aimed for the Governor’s henchmen who were watching their work unfold in front of them before smirking and escaping like cowards in their cars.

Renée took out walker after walker after walker, trying her best to clear the space around Rick and Hershel, as they were in trouble. Before long however, walkers began to surround the area and Maggie and Renée had to resort to taking care of the beasts that had come inside the fences, hearing the inevitable sounds of gunshots.

Renée’s gun emptied but she saw the silver lining as the car, with Michonne, Glenn and Hershel rolled up to the front of the prison and they came out safely. But Renée’s real shock came later when she saw Rick with two other men following slowly behind; Daryl and his brother, Merle, covered in the blood of walkers. Daryl’s eyes were immediately stuck on Renée as she stood there, an empty gun in her hand, blood all over her, a state Daryl had seen before. Renée pushed the tears away as she turned around and retreated into the prison, her ripped shirt revealing the bleeding bandages on her back.

Daryl’s heart hurt as he saw Renée retreat at the sight of him, to be honest, he didn’t blame her but it still hurt his heart to see her treat him this way.

Rick paced around the prison cells as Merle was locked in the other room, looking in on their conversation. Renée didn’t bother listening, she wasn’t interested in anything he had to say and she could hear from her room anyway. Everytime she heard Daryl’s voice she could hear the pain in the way he spoke and the hesitation in Merle’s.

 

After the conversation was over, Renée was in the middle of disposing her old bandages when a figure appeared in the doorway; she didn’t even have to look to know who it was. He didn’t say anything as he looked at her, she daren’t look at the man.

“Renée…” his voice was hoarse, “…we need to talk”

“Nothing to talk about” she replied bluntly, still not meeting his eyes,

“Please, I need to talk to you” Daryl was almost begging at this point. Renée met his gaze, but it was a cold one.

“What”

He swallowed before he spoke, thinking about his sentence, “What happened back there…”

“Did you not hear me?” she asked, standing up, wearing only her bandages, “Exactly what you think he did, Daryl. You want a definitive answer? He raped me. There you go. Happy now? He also whipped me seven times, but you knew that; hard to miss the blood all over my back, huh?”

He didn’t reply. He just stared at the floor, feeling guilty.

“I didn’t know what to do, Renée…”

“That’s fucking bullshit, Daryl. You think giving me the cold shoulder is going to make your raped, beaten girlfriend feel any better? Well, I’m sorry to say but you thought wrong. Also, your brother there? What can I say? He watched it happen and now I have to share this space with him?”

“He won’t hurt you, Renée…”

“Oh no, he’s just gonna watch and do nothing” Renée snapped, tears in her eyes.

There was a long silence, “Look at me, Daryl” she said between her tears, one of them rolling down her cheek. He looked at her and immediately regretted it, he hated seeing people cry, especially when it was his fault.

“You hurt me, Daryl…at a time I needed you most I…” she trailed off, swallowing her words, trying her best not to lose it.

“Renée…”

“Don’t” she looked away, her brown hair covering her eyes as more tears found their way out.

Daryl took the hint and walked out of the cell, but stopped before the doorway, looking back, his cheeks red from holding it in.

“Just so you know…”

Renée looked up for a moment, “I love you too…”

As Daryl left, Renée was left with two very conflicting feelings in the depth of her heart. A feeling of hatred for him for what he’d done previously and yet a warm feeling as she realised that he’d loved her.


	11. Chapter 11

_Daryl opened his tired eyes, his eyelashes flickering a few times before his blurred vision eventually became clear. The ceiling of his prison cell now visible as he counted the bricks there, he looked around him and the cold, still air felt strange for some reason._

_In the doorway of his cell stood a stocky silhouette, holding a large machete in his right hand, dripping in a pool below him. Daryl stood off the bed, searching for a gun; he pointed it at the shadow as it came into the light. The Governor. Daryl loaded the chamber of his gun as he frowned at the man in front of him, who had a smile all over his face._

_“You need to help Renée, Daryl…” he chuckled, swinging the machete in his hand. Laughing louder and louder._

_“Shut up!!” Daryl shot the man in the head and he fell down dead in the middle of his room, staring at the body he breathed heavily and wondered what he meant._

_“Daryl…” she whispered. He looked up to see Renée, holding her pregnant stomach that he assumed held a child. She was holding the wound on her abdomen, her eyes were tired and there was blood everywhere, below her, on her and even on her limbs. She fell to her knees and then to the ground, weakly holding the wound, trying to make the bleeding stop. Daryl rushed to her side, catching her last moments where her eyes were open._

_Tears melted from Daryl’s eyes, “Renée! Please…”_

_“Daryl…the baby….” She breathed out, her voice was hoarse and he knew she was close to death._

_“Renée…what baby?…” he asked. She looked happily into his eyes, tears falling and the colour fading from her face. She pushed a knife towards Daryl’s hand, insisting on her imminent death._

_“No… Renée…” he was begging for her to stay with him, but she couldn’t comply with him and her eyes closed,_

_“I love you…” she whispered before her limbs went limp. Crying out loudly, Daryl pushed the knife into Renée’s skull, forbidding her from coming back to life, if that was life at all._

_The silence afterwards was filled with a cry and Daryl’s attention directed to her pregnant stomach, he pulled up her shirt to see her dead hand cradling the head of the crying baby, covered in blood. Daryl slowly and carefully pulled the baby out of his lover’s body and cradled it in his arms, his tears still falling from his eyes. The baby stopped crying and opened its eyes, revealing Daryl’s icy blue eyes; his breath stopped for a moment as the beautiful baby stared at him._

_But before he knew it, the eyes of the baby changed and they turned even icier and white. Becoming the undead, the baby groaned and cried slowly, it’s small hands reaching out for Daryl._

_He left the baby on the floor as he fell back, his cries and wails echoing in the prison. The baby still groaned and cried and he couldn’t take it anymore, shouting and crying he pushed the machete into the baby’s—_

“Daryl! Wake up!” a familiar voice caught Daryl out of his nightmare and he looked around quickly before seeing the person in front of him sat on his bed. At first he was afraid because he didn’t expect the silhouette there, but as he focussed his breath levelled out and he saw her, _Renée._

“Daryl?” she asked, looking into his eyes. His eyes softened sleepily as he threw his arms around the woman, his head resting into the crook of her neck; he hadn’t realised that he had started to cry as they trickled down her shoulder. Her hand rubbed his back as she attempted to calm him down, letting him get all his emotions out. Her other hand rested on the back of his neck, her warm skin against his, something he missed.

He pulled away and looked at her, she smiled weakly at him, her hand still on his neck, slipping up to his face and wiping away a tear.

“Renée…” he whispered, not realising he’d said it. She laughed,

“Yes?”

“U-um…I’m sorry I…”

“Nightmare, huh?”

Daryl nodded slowly. Feeling slightly embarrassed, “Was I loud?”

“No, you used to have nightmares quite often, so I know when you’re having one” Renée smiled. Her hand was still on his cheek, but she didn’t want to let go, so she just looked into his watery blue eyes. He smiled a little as he saw hers, but looked down as if embarrassed.

“Renée…” he started, she shook her head,

“Don’t. We don’t need to talk about it” she replied, her thumb stroking against his cheek.

“But we do. I fucked up, Renée and I’m so so—”

His words were cut off by Renée’s lips on his; he was surprised but after a moment he warmed up and applied his own pressure against her lips, enjoying the warmth of her against him. Her hand came down to his chest, grasping the front of the shirt and pulling him further towards her; the kiss slowly evolved into a passionate one, suddenly feeling the need of each other’s touch. Renée reached for his hand placed it on her breast, encouraging him to touch her; he nervously gave her breasts a squeeze hearing a quiet moan escape her lips as he did so. Becoming braver he pulled the straps of her tank top down, revealing the bandages covering her chest; Daryl abruptly stopped and stared at the bandages,

“Renée…I want to but…” he said, conflicted.

She lightly pushed against his chest and he fell back to his original position, without giving him a moment to think she swung her legs over his torso, her bare legs now exposed as she’d kicked off her shorts. She grabbed the hem of her tank top and threw it across the room, now only in her black underwear, she could feel her partner growing harder beneath her as she took charge.

Pulling the hairtie from her hair she allowed it to cascade past her back; hastily she picked up the knife she’d had in her shorts and dragged the blade across the bandages, ripping them off her body as if she was desperate for him to see her. When she was now fully exposed to him, Daryl was fully hard and aching to be with her, her eyes were glazed over with a darkness that only meant lust.

Throwing her knife to the ground she placed her palm at Daryl’s prominent erection, just her touch sparking a reaction from him. She leaned down, her mouth now closer to the bulge, her eyes on Daryl’s face she unzipped his jeans and pulled out his hard dick. Her smile was suggestive as she slowly pumped it in her hand,

“Oh my god… Renée…” he moaned as her hand movements gave him pleasure,

“Don’t get excited, the best is yet to come….” She said deeply, Daryl’s eyes were on the ceiling of the prison when he suddenly felt a wet warmth around him, he moaned out, an echo dancing down the corridors. When he looked at Renée again, she was slowly teasing him by bobbing her head on him at a horrendously slow pace, her eyes watching his reaction.

Her movements quickened and Daryl was close to his peak when he felt her come off of him, his peak quickly subsided and he was once again caught between euphoria. His eyes opened and he saw Renée hovering over his torso, her beautiful silhouette and her curves right in front of him; one hand still on his erection she positioned herself over him, pulling her underwear to one side she slipped him into her and let herself fall onto him.

Daryl’s moaned mimicked Renée’s as she began moving on top of him, her body feeling hot against his, he felt his peak returning once more. Daryl sit his body up so he was now eye level with Renée, his arms wrapping around her body and grabbing her behind forcefully and as much as she tried to control her moans, they rolled out without a single thought.

“So fucking sexy…” Daryl moaned, slipping one of her nipples into his mouth. Grabbing her ass he thrust up into her, hitting her sweet spot she moaned out again, her hands in his hair and her nails across his back.

Quickly, he switched their positions and trapped her under him; Renée looked up at her lover, his eyes were calm, peaceful and passionate. She smiled and lifted her head to kiss him again and Daryl resumed with a slow pace, his palms rubbing at all the skin he could get at. With them kissing, Renée was quieter and her moans vibrated within her and she could feel his moans growing louder as he neared his peak,

“Shit…Daryl…” she moaned out as he thrusts quicker into her, his mouth nipping at her neck.

“Renée baby, I’m gonna cum…” he groaned out, she moaned quicker as his pace matched the quickness, his fingers digging into her skin he felt the euphoria wash over him as he finished inside of her, Renée reaching her climax as he emptied himself inside of her, riding out the multiple waves of pleasure that had built up in the pit of her stomach.

Her breath was quick and so was his, remaining in the same position for what felt like minutes they looked at one another again. Daryl, still rested between her legs, brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She smiled and kissed him gently, a strange contrast from the heated and passionate moment they shared earlier.

“I love you, Daryl…” she whispered, her eyes lovingly staring into Daryl’s. He smiled largely as she said that.

“I love you, too” he replied. She smiled even wider, finally receiving the answer to the question she’d asked not even three days earlier and yet so much had changed. He fell to her side and pulled her body towards him, taking the sheets and pulling them up to cover them both, she smiled as he kissed her head and as his strong, big arms covered her petit body.

There was a comfortable silence as Daryl propped his arm up on the pillow to cradle his head, his other hand drawing circles on Renée’s porcelain skin.

“Daryl?” Renée said,

“Hm?”

“What was your nightmare about?” she asked, remembering why she’d come here in the first place. Daryl’s circle drawing stopped and he looked at the body of his lover, feeling warmed she was with him and not that the dream was real; Renée sensed his unease and turned to face him, her hands on his chest.

“Uh…” he paused,

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want t—”

“No, no it’s not that at all…just with everything that’s been going on…I’m not sure if it’s good to tell you”

Renée nodded slowly, “You can tell me…you know, I’m always here for you” she smiled genuinely, making her lover smile also. He took in a deep breath as he remembered the dream,

“Don’t remember the beginning much…but I know there was someone in my cell, with a machete, your machete. It was covered in blood…and the person was the Governor…”

Daryl felt his partner stiffen at the mention but didn’t stop him, “I shot him and then I saw you…with a huge wound on your front, for some reason you were pregnant”

Renée’s face screwed up when she heard that, he knew she couldn’t get pregnant; she wondered why he’d dreamed about it.

“You were dying…and you told me to kill you before you’d turn…so when you died I did…” his words were becoming more drawn out as he continued, as if emotionally exhausted, “…then I heard the baby cry…”

Renée swore she caught the glimpse of a tear in his eye, “The baby had my eyes…and then it turned…I didn’t manage to kill the baby before you woke me up”

Renée had barely reacted to the nightmare, much to Daryl’s surprise. Her hand was still circling his chest and she looked up to her partner, “I see…” is all she said.

“It was…horrible”

“Hey” she said, making him look into her bright green eyes, “I’m here” she smiled. He smiled sadly, exploring the features of her face,

“I’ve had dreams like that too…” she said, looking down.

“Dreams of me being pregnant?” Daryl joked, she laughed and punched his arm lightly,

“No! Stupid! Where I’ve been pregnant!”

“When?”

“Before I came in here” she replied, smiling up at him.

He kissed the side of her temple as he pulled her into his chest, their warmth now not being one of two people, but one.

“You know, they say when you’re dreaming about pregnancy, something in your personal life is developing” Renée said into his chest,

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah” she looked up and smiled lovingly at Daryl before saying, “I think I know what that is”


	12. Chapter 12

“Guys! Wake up, Andrea’s here!” Someone shouted in the hallway, echoing into each and every cellblock, Renée squinted her eyes, being rudely awakened by the shouting. She rubbed her eyes and looked up to find she had slept on Daryl’s chest, she smiled at his sleeping form; swinging her legs off the bed she began dressing herself. Once she was fully dressed now, she tied her hair in a low ponytail and grabbed a slightly damp towel from the floor, taking both ends of it and twisting it in her hands, looking smugly at a still sleeping Daryl.

A little bit of his butt was showing so Renée took matters into her own hands and flicked the towel like a whip at his butt, it hit him with a sound that couldn’t be described and he immediately woke up, his hand on his butt in pain.

“Ah! What the fuck, Renée?!” he shouted while Renée laughed at him, her smile warming his heart. He didn’t think he’d see her smile or laugh like this for a while after…

“Good morning!~” she sang as Daryl shot a playful glare at her, dressing himself,

“What’d I miss?” he asked, Renée plopped herself on the edge of the bed and looked over at him,

“Someone called Andrea is here, I don’t know. You know her?” she asked in a calm tone. Daryl’s face was now confused, why would Andrea be here?

“Uhh…she was with us, before we came here. Ended up finding Michonne and then leaving her to go and kiss the Governor’s ass” Daryl said, his voice was bitter as he spoke. Renée raised an eyebrow,

“So she’s the Governor’s pet”

“Somethin’ like that”

“She on his side?”

“She says she’s on ours…but I don’t think the Governor’s sleepin’ in a cold bed if you know what I mean” Daryl answered, tying his shoes up. His hand rested on the small of Renée’s back as they both made their way towards the communal area, where everyone was already converging.

Carol and Andrea were hugging as Daryl and Renée walked in; she eyed Andrea carefully, knowing now that she probably betrayed the whole group by just being affiliated with that creature.

Daryl sat on the table as Renée took the seat next to him, her hands clenched as she started to ask questions,

“Where’s Shane?”

Everyone was silent, she should get the message by now.

“Lori?”

There was another silence before Hershel explained how she died and that she had a baby, Renée, all completely new to this, was silent as she listened. Wondering what could have possibly been going on.

“I’m not an enemy, Rick” she said, she sounded as if she deserved to be accepted back into the group. Renée knew exactly what was going on here, she reached out and put her hand into Daryl’s, he gave it a small squeeze.

Rick was pissed, he was pissed that she came in and just expected to be accepted again. And she was completely unaware that her boyfriend had just full on drive-by’d the prison and straight up killed Axel.

By now, Andrea and Glenn were arguing about how Merle was allowed into the group…kind of.

“Isn’t he the one who kidnapped you? Beat you?”

Renée had had enough of her trying to defend the Governor, she stood up, leaning against the table,

“Do you even know who the Governor is?” Renée asked, the blonde woman turned to a face she’d never seen before.

“Who’re you?” she asked, in a slightly condescending way,

“Her name’s Renée…don’t be so rude…” Daryl said, shooting glares at Andrea,

“So you trust the new girl more than you trust me?” Andrea asks everybody.

“They trust me because I’m not the one keeping the Governor’s bed warm” Renée said crossing her arms, Andrea looked offended,

“You don’t know shit about Phillip”

“I don’t know shit? That’s funny, let me tell you a little bit about ‘Phillip’. He kidnaps me, Glenn and Maggie. He humiliates Maggie, scares her half to death, whips my back until it’s bleeding, rapes me and you think I don’t know what kind of man he is?” Renée said, Andrea was silent.

“I-I didn’t…”

“Of course you don’t. What **do** you know, ‘Andrea’?” Renée mocked,

“Tell you what, when you see ‘Phillip’ you tell him I’m gonna take his other eye” Daryl said.

Andrea was in a state of shock, knowing what kind of things he’d done.

“Did he really do that to you?” Andrea asked Renée, she only scoffed in response,

“You still don’t get it…still trying to find the good in a man who now according to you wants war with us. I wouldn’t lie about things like that, see my back for yourself, I don’t care, but don’t you dare call me a liar”

Renée walked back into the cellblocks, retreating to Daryl’s room and laying on his bed. Daryl smirked a little. After a few minutes Daryl followed to his room, standing in the doorway, smiling. Renée looked over at him and sighed,

“What?”

“That was hot”

She scoffed, sitting up, “Could’ve beaten her into the concrete ground if I wanted to”

Daryl only laughed, “That’s my girl”

Renée looked up and smiled to him, “Hey can you help me change my bandages?” she said, turning so her back was to him. She pulled her shirt off and Daryl saw the horrific sight, she was still bleeding through her wounds, he felt a sad pang as he unravelled her previous bandages. One hand on her shoulder he used the other to unravel them, his movements were slow and Renée noticed; she put her hand back on her shoulder and squeezed his hand that was there,

“Hey…Don’t cry” she said, Daryl sniffed and continued, the whole bandage now unwrapped, Renée slipped her shirt back on and turned to Daryl, a sad smile there. Her palm rubbed his knee as she saw the regretful look in his eyes,

“Daryl…”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it” he replied, his eyes not meeting hers.

“It’s hard for me…I don’t want to talk about it often…And with Merle here…”

“Merle won’t do anythin’ to ya. He’s not like that…”

Renée was silent, thinking about the words she was going to say, “Daryl, I know he’s your brother, but…he was there…” Renée’s words were strained as she tried to not let the tears out. He pulled her into a soft hug,

“I’ll talk to him, ok?” he said, Renée pulled away and nodded, immediately standing up to leave,

“I’m going to ask Maggie for more bandages and disinfectant”

When she walked into the communal area she saw Maggie shuffling with things in the corner, Renée still holding her blood soaked bandages shouted towards her.

“Hey Maggie, do you have new bandages and disinfectant? I need to change mine” Renée asked, Maggie turned quickly and handed her what she needed. As Renée turned to leave she caught sight of Merle standing in the corner of the room, staring hardcore at the dirty bandages in her hand; feeling awkward and uncomfortable, Renée quickly left, leaving Merle with a guilty sensation in the pit of his stomach.

As Renée returned she placed a stool in front of the one Daryl was currently standing on and she stared at the wall in front of her as she removed her shirt.

“This might hurt a little” Daryl warned, taking the lid off the disinfectant. At this point Merle’s head craned around the corner, peeking into the cell they were both in. When he saw the wounds on her back, he felt disgusted and was almost about to walk away when Daryl poured the alcohol all over her back, the sound that came from Renée could only be described as a loud shout and a loud cry in pain. Her hand gripped the corner of the desk and even Merle could hear her fingernails digging into the wood as the liquid sunk into every crevice.

“Fuck…” her body shook with the pain, “Shit…”

“Sorry baby, are you alright?” Daryl asked, shaking in pain she nodded and handed him the bandages and he began to wrap them up again, now a little less blood leaking from the slashes. Once he was done he rubbed her shoulder, still recovering from the horrific pain. Daryl left as soon as Renée was asleep in his bed, but as he turned to leave he saw his brother peeking around the doorway,

“What did ya see”

“Everything” he answered, bluntly,

Daryl nodded, “You need to make it right”

“And how do you propose I do that little brother?” his brother asked, following him as he walked. Daryl sighed turning back to look at him,

“You’re pathetic. You see her be tortured, live with her and you won’t even try and say sorry” Daryl was getting mad and Merle just hung his head in shame,

“Look, man, I don’t know how to talk to women”

  
“Well you’re gonna have to know…she’s my girl, you got me you got her too”

Merle suddenly raised his head and smiled a little, “I’m happy for ya li’l brother”

Daryl smirked and let out a short chuckle, he’d never had this feeling from him before.

“And last night…” Now this caught Daryl’s attention, “…I heard you too; sound like you were getting your dick sucked”

Daryl looked away, “Aww man you can’t say shit like that”

“Never seen ya with a woman, Daryl. Thought you was a virgin” Merle playfully punched his little brother in the arm, as much as Daryl tried to deny it Merle read him like an open book.

Daryl smiled a little and walked away, “You promise me you’ll talk to ‘er”

Merle knew that he had to fulfil Daryl’s wishes, he wouldn’t even have thought about apologising if he hadn’t known she was Daryl’s girlfriend. But seeing the harm that was done to her that he could have prevented, at this moment, he felt an obligation he’d never felt before.

 

* * *

 

Renée ran her hands through her hair tiredly as she awoke from her short nap, she sighed as she opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Thinking briefly about what she was going to do, but more about if Daryl had talked to Merle; as she thought about it she felt the remaining stinging pain from the alcohol on her whip marks.

She decided to make herself useful and fold some clothes, so collecting all of the washed shirts and bottoms she carried them in her arms. On the stairs she saw Carol also folding clothes next to Judith’s crib; the older woman smiled as she saw Renée approaching.

“Hey” she chirped, smiling. Renée gave her a smile back in response, which made Carol raised her eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

Renée briefly caught eyes with Carol as she folded the first shirt,

“Merle?” she asked, all Renée could do was nod. Carol nodded back, folding another shirt, “Yeah…he’s a dick”

Renée chuckled and Carol’s use of language that she barely ever let’s out, “Interesting way to put it. I could use more colourful language but I won’t, he’s Daryl’s brother…”

“Doesn’t mean you have to like him”

“Yeah well….I’m trying my best to forgive…it’s so hard but I am trying”

Carol softly laid her last shirt on the pile of folded clothes, looking over to Renée with a sympathetic look, “Just remember Merle isn’t the one who had the crop in his hand” Carol whispered, just low enough that it didn’t echo. Renée sighed, what Carol had said was right and factual, he didn’t have the crop in his hand and what would have happened to him if he’d have spoken up to the Governor?

At this point, when she was taken by her thoughts, she’d noticed Carol had walked away and left Renée to think on her own. Sighing, she folded the rest of the clothes, hearing slightly heavier footsteps behind her; but she paid no mind to them. In her peripheral vision a figure leaned against the table, she looked up quickly and saw someone she would never expect to see. It was Merle and he took off his metal arm and laid it gently on the table in front of them, her eyes were glued to his arm, wondering what happened.

“Ain’t cha gonna ask why I got no hand?” he asked, looking over to Renée. She shook her head and placed another article of folded clothing on her pile, “Don’t blame ya; long story short, Rick and Glenn left me up on a rooftop, course they came back for me but it was too late. Had to cut myself free”

Renée didn’t reply, she only pretended to be preoccupied with what she was doing, secretly listening to every detail,

“You ain’t from ‘ere…why’d ya come all the way to this shit heap?” he asked, Renée’s mouth raised into a smile,

“Had to get out” she replied, her actions becoming slower as her past raised it’s head, “I had to leave”

There was a silence between them, not awkward, but full of tension.

“Listen… Renée, right? I ain’t good with this stuff…” Merle took in a deep breath, “I’m sorry, ‘k?”

For the first time that day Renée looked into Merle’s eyes and he had the same shade as Daryl’s, as soon as they met her eyes looked at the floor again, “There isn’t any need to be sorry”

“Yeah there i—”

“You weren’t the one who hurt me, Merle. I used to believe you did, but that’s a lie. I can’t hate you because you didn’t do anything worth hating…” she looked at Merle again, in the eyes, “…so there’s nothing to forgive”

There was another silence but it was lighter this time.

“You’re good for Daryl” he said, Renée looked at him and smiled,

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“I didn’t think my baby brother could ever land a chick like you…you’re strong and I’ve seen that, you ain’t the kinda chick who’s gonna take anyone else’s crap. That’s what Daryl needs…a real woman”

Renée chuckled slightly, “Was that a compliment, Merle?”

He laughed in return, “If ya gonna be sarcastic ‘bout it I won’t give em out no more”


	13. Chapter 13

It was another candlelit night in the prison, everything seemed to be calmer now. Through the echoey halls, Beth’s voice rang out, singing a song Hershel must have sung once before all this had happened. Daryl’s lips cornered into a smile as she sang and everyone else did the same, smiling at the serenity of the situation as a noticeable lift of tension from before was seen.

He swiftly looked over at Renée, who was donning a pair of skinny jeans and a black tank top, the style that he loved. She’d let her hair down tonight so it ran past her shoulders and down past her ribs, her pale face framed by the dark locks of thick hair. Her gaze was on Beth as she sang, her body instinctively swaying back and forth to the rhythm; Maggie was talking to her in a whisper, smiling, obviously talking about something they shouldn’t.

Renée turned to Maggie, playfully hitting her shoulder as she said something that made her blush, but Daryl couldn’t help but see her smile. That’s all he wanted anymore.

“So is he or what?” Maggie asked quietly, Renée rolled her eyes,

“Maggie”

“Well? I wanna know!”

“He’s pretty good in bed, okay?” she smiled at her immature friend, “What about Glenn, huh?”

“Well we did have a break from Walker Watch to get freaky in the garage”

Renée’s face screwed up, “I’m never gonna see that place the same again knowing you and Glenn have fucked there” she giggled, making her friend do the same.

“I mean Glenn’s good…”

“She says hesitantly” Renée joked,

“Well I don’t really have anything to compare it to! Glenn’s…”

Her pause was met by Renée raising her eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Shut up”

“Well it’s not like I can compare either” Renée commented, now it was Maggie’s turn to be confused,

“What? Well I know Daryl ain’t your first”

“Well duh, but before **that** happened, I hadn’t had sex before” Renée said. Maggie was silent, suddenly the conversation now going a little sour, “Sorry was that a bit much?”

“No it’s just…I hate to think that was your first time” her friend’s look was now more sympathetic,

“Worse things happen, can’t change it” Renée shrugged, Maggie returning with a smile again,

“I like the way you think” she smiled at her friend, “So…what’s he like?” Maggie asked, nudging her friend’s shoulder. Renée laughed again,

“And once again Maggie somehow manages to turn the conversation into sex, you’re obsessed! I think the best time had to be the first time we did it, can’t beat a good hate fuck” the both of them laughed and Daryl watched from the distance, having no idea he was being talked about but smiling at his partner. He looked extremely confused but shrugged it off, listening to their giggles mixed with the heavenly sound of Beth’s singing echoing along the halls of the prison, making everyone else smile as well.

 

* * *

 

_Her wrists were beginning to turn red raw as they were handcuffed to the radiator, the cold surface making it uncomfortable against her bare skin. Her head was resting on the end of the radiator, the inability to sleep evident due to the dark circles under her eyes. Her wrists stung as the skin around it was broken, bloodied and raw, her bare feet the same having been rubbed against the hard ground._

_How long has it been…since she came here. She didn’t know, they didn’t think to tell her._

_She heard the sound of the door, followed by a chuckle but she didn’t move. Now desensitised to his methods of trying to frighten her,_

_“Morning, ladies” he shouted out, the man on the other side of the room cowered into his corner, his chains clinking as he did so. She rolled her eyes, he gave him exactly the reaction he wanted, “Eager, are we?” he asked, smiling evilly at the man whose face was pale and puffy from crying._

_He looked over to her now, unsurprised by her reaction. He stepped towards her, his boot slipping slightly into the pool of blood that had formed around her in the night, hence why she was unable to sleep, the pain was too much._

_He laughed again and knelt down towards her face, his ugly expression was one of evil wanting. Still her eyes were not on him; he reached forwards and undid her handcuffs, she knew by now there was no use in trying to escape, as she had tried many times before and been severely beaten for it._

_He took both of her wrists in one hand and held them down, his loaded gun at his side ready to shoot her if she tried anything._

_“Does it hurt, my dear?” he asked, pressing his hand into her abdomen, where two extremely fresh, averagely sewn wounds were. His thumb pressed into the sensitive slits and she cried out in pain, tears already streaming down her cheeks, but the man only laughed, ignoring her cries. And he violated her body that day, and every day after that for many, many months. The pain was unbearable and she would bleed so much everyday as he beat her, invaded her with anything he could get his hands on._

_There was a moment where she realised she couldn’t even cry anymore, where she couldn’t even react. As much as the man across the room would try and get through to her, her spirit was broken, her mind in pieces and her dignity non-existent._

_And his bat came down on her again, on the back of her neck, her back, all over her body. And she whimpered in pain, her body aching and her bruises big and blue._

_She lay on the floor, tears drying on her cheeks as the man loomed above her. He leaned down and looked into her eyes, his smile was a dirty, horrid one._

_“I like this one…I’m gonna keep her here…forever”_

* * *

 

Renée sat up quickly in her bed, her breath fast and a slightly scream leaving her mouth. She tried to catch her breath but felt like she was unable to, suddenly feeling unsafe where she was and for a moment, not recognising where she was.

“Renée” she heard a familiar voice and two warm hands on her bare shoulders. She whipped her head around and looked, Daryl…and she was suddenly calm.

She hadn’t realised that tears had started making their way down her cheeks as Daryl bought her head to his bare chest to comfort her, his hand rubbing her back. Although he didn’t completely understand, he’d never seen her like this before, nor had he often seen her cry.

Renée pulled away from his embrace and looked up at him, a weak sniff and a mumble is all that came from her,

“What?” Daryl asked, not hearing her the first time. She wiped her eyes and shook her head,

“I’m sorry…”

He sighed as he wiped more falling tears from her eyes, making her look into his, “Ya ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. Ya feel like talkin’ bout it?”

He waited patiently for her response, almost feeling like she’d say no.

“It was just…memories…” every word dripping with sadness she looked into her lover’s eyes, needing comfort desperately, “It was so painful, Daryl, I—”

“Shh, it’s alright, it ain’t happenin’ anymore” he soothed in the most gentle voice he could manage. She looked like she was about to fall apart from the look on her face, he couldn’t bear to see her like this; so for the rest of the night he held her close to him and she drifted off again. His body flinched whenever hers moved, concerned about another nightmare.

How he wished he could take it all away.

He’d never seen Renée with the watery glaze over her eyes in fear before, not even when he’d first found her. She was a strong woman, but the reminder of this was enough to send her back into trauma; she mumbled into Daryl’s shirt and took deep breaths to soothe herself, with his hand rubbing circles on her back.

“Daryl…I-I can’t go back to that…I can’t…” she cried, Daryl’s heart hurt even more when she said these words. He felt his eyes blur with tears slightly as he pulled her into his chest,

“Sh…it’s okay…ya safe with me…” he said quietly, trying to calm her voice and her nerves. He rocked her as if trying to lull her back to sleep,

“Safe…with you…safe with you…” she chanted as her eyes closed.

Her body hiccupped against his for a few moments before she completely went limp and fell asleep, in the comfort of her hunter’s safe arms.

 

* * *

 

She looked over herself once again in the mirror, sighing. The morning rays shone through the prison bars and into her cell as Renée tied up her hair, her eyes flickering over her face. But her mind was preoccupied on what had happened the night before; Daryl was currently out with Rick and Hershel, trying to negotiate a truce with the governor. Renée was obviously not interested in getting anywhere near Andrea or the governor again.

She heard the shuffling of feet and looked towards the door to see Beth walk past, but the young girl stopped at her cell and peeked inside.

Leaning against the doorway, the blonde girl spoke up, “What’s wrong?”

Renée chuffed, “What gives you the impression anything’s wrong?”

She shrugged, “I heard ya, last night, must’ve been some nightmare”

Renée bit her lip, looking down in slight embarrassment, “Yeah, sure was”

Beth walked in the cell and sat on the bed, facing Renée’s back,

“Listen…Maggie told me everythin’”

Renée looked to the young girl, “Everything?”

She nodded to which Renée sighed and faced Beth, “Well? What do you think?”

Beth thought for a moment, her hands on her thighs firmly, “Well…same as Maggie. I just…hate to the thought that when you were there, that was our first time…”

There was a long pause as Renée couldn’t think of a reply.

“And I think you need to have faith in Daryl…”

“I have faith in him now?”

“No I mean…probably now, everytime you and Daryl are ‘together’ you probably think of all the bad shit that happened right?”

“Sometimes…but that has nothing to do with Daryl”

“So what then?”

_Ah…she doesn’t understand._

Taking in a deep breath Renée replied, “My body was someone’s personal chew toy for almost a year, I can’t have children, I’m all kinds of scarred up and recently **our** enemy decided to make me relive all of that. It’s hard sometimes, with Daryl, to know if he sees me as a real woman”

Beth nodded, “You wanted kids didn’t you?”

Renée looked lost, “Yeah I did….before that…but now, even if I could…am I even stable enough to be someone’s partner, let alone a mother…”

Suddenly, as if on cue, Judith from the other room began to cry and Beth rushed up and came back with a crying Judith in her arms. She knelt in front of Renée,

“Could you? I need to fetch her bottle”

“Beth, I—”

“She needs feeding, I’ll be 5—”

“Beth, no”

There was a stare off before Renée felt the hot pangs of guilty and took Judith from Beth. She placed the child on her lap and Judith looked at Renée as Renée looked at Judith; her little hands reached out for a hyperpigmented patch on Renée’s arm, her chubby fingers rubbing on it and gurgling.

Renée closed her eyes, almost unable to keep it together. Her little fingers almost covered the big patch of skin that at one point was not there at all; and Renée broke down, her tears running down her face and Judith looking at Renée with a confused baby look. Renée pulled the small bundle towards her, her head resting in the older woman’s shoulder.

As her hands rubbed the baby’s back and as she cried, Beth looked on. Now, finally, understanding the pain. Not just the pain and the scars, but the pain of appearing as less of a woman.


	14. Chapter 14

_It was as if one moment there was silent, and then the next there was nothing but **noise.**_

****

_The man burst through the door, his arms flailing around, trying to push his dearly departed friend away from him. But no matter how many times he tried to push his chest, his friend was too strong and pushed forwards one step further each time; his eyes now white and his arms reaching in front of him, trying to grab the other male._

_He managed to push him away, towards the other man who had been imprisoned with Renée; she scooted away, but the beast’s attention was never on her, but on the tied up man who was now screaming._

_The kidnapper rushed to her side, fiddling with the small keys desperately looking for the handcuffs whilst the groaning and screaming filled the vacant air. Finally, released they watched as the man tore the throat out of the other, his screams now muffled by the sound of him choking on his own blood. Bubbling up and spilling out of his mouth._

_All she could do was watch in horror as the man she never really knew, was mauled to death before her very eyes. And then his attention was on the other man; stumbling backwards and falling over he ended up with the beast on top of him, and too overweight to really escape he slid his handgun over to the still naked woman, with blood tattooed on her body._

_“Shoot it!” he ordered, as if still in the mindset of being her dictator._

_Using her newfound use of her hands, she grabbed the gun and mentally noted that six bullets had been loaded. She took her aim and shot the beast through the skull, rendering it motionless._

_Pushing the corpse off his body, he stood and wiped the blood and dirt off his clothes as if it made a difference,_

_“Quick we need to—” he began._

_His eyes trailed up her naked form, covering from the waist down in her own blood. Her eyes were filled with tears and hatred, her hands wielded the gun. His only weapon._

_Suddenly, his demeanor was calm and his arms held out in front of him, he begged her to spare him._

_“Renée, you don’t wanna do this? What would you do? Where would you go? You’re lost. You’ll never survive…”_

_His words were lost in a broken mind that couldn’t hear them, all she heard was the ringing and her own sobs as tears trailed down her cheeks. The tempting thrill of pulling the trigger…_

_“Hey! Stupid bitch, drop the fucking gu—”_

_One bullet through the chest was all it took to shut him up. He stared at her, unbelieving that she had shot him; blood trailed down his lip and Renée lowered her gun wordlessly, relief washed over her body._

_Dropping to his knees, he held the wound as if trying to fix it and he stared into Renée’s eyes and found no mercy, almost no soul._

_Silently, as if creeping, she walked up to his almost dead form and really **looked** into his eyes, trying to send fear into his body the way he’d done to her so many times. And although she didn’t feel it necessary to cause him the same pain, because frankly he wouldn’t be worth the time, she simply muttered ‘look what you created’ with the loneliness and most emotionless tone of voice she could manage and shot him in the head. _

_And the broken, unknowing woman set out into the world with three bullets, no clothes and not one ounce of her dignity nor pride._

* * *

Renée sat up in her bed, but not quickly this time. This time, she woke up defeated and with the feeling like she had no heart beating in her chest. Leaning against the wall, she looked over at Daryl next to her, his back facing her; she felt tears welling up in her eyes and knocked her head against the wall, letting more tears fall.

Feeling the need for fresh air, she quickly threw on a shirt and shoes and dashed outside as if on a mission. Her quick pace directed towards the guard tower, she hastily climbed up the steps to see nobody there to which she was grateful for; slumping in the corner she held her knees to her chest, staring out at the world beyond the fences.

Her weak sobs were met with inquisitive minds and her head whipped around to see Rick climbing up the steps, his eyes connected with hers to let her know that he’d heard her crying. She wiped her nose and avoided his gaze as he sat down next to her.

Nothing was said for at least a minute whilst Renée tried to control her erratic breathing.

“Why you cryin’?” he asked, looking over to her. She looked down and then away again without giving an answer, to which Rick sighed.

“Renée… you’re the newest member of our group. Even if that is so…I need to know you’re okay” his low voice showed how tired he was. Renée

bit her lip, not meeting his eyes.

“Just a nightmare…that’s all” is all she replied with.

“Daryl told me” is what caught her attention immediately and she stared at Rick in a scared and vulnerable way, “But he’s only told me”

Renée nodded slightly, “How much…”

“As much as he knows”

“Right…”

Silence again.

“Well?” Renée asked, desperate for an answer,

“Ain’t nothin’ to say, you’re a strong woman”

“That’s what I like to look like”

“Renée you are…”

“I’m broken, Rick” she said defensively, her knees against her chest, chin leaning on it. In her voice, she knew the tears would begin.

“I-I’m strong…at all. Every night since it happened there’s been nightmares, but none like this; not memories…”

Rick listened as she carried on, her voice becoming more strained as she spoke, “I held Judith, Rick and I cried…I’m not a person who cried but goddammit I fucking cried…I didn’t cry when I was put in the hospital with third degree burns, I didn’t cry when I left home…”

“…But I cried when he raped me for the first time…”

“Renée..”

“I cried when he did it everyday after that. I cried when he beat me. I cried when he cut me. I cried when he cut me **open.** I cried when the Governor raped and tortured me. I cried when Daryl broke my heart.And I cried when I held Judith…”

“Why?”

She looked over, taking in a short breath, “Because…when I looked over at Daryl…I realized I couldn’t give him what I wanted to…I can’t give…all of me”

Rick saw so much hurt behind her eyes that he knew she was being genuine. She quickly looked away, calming her breathing and wiping away her tears off her cheeks;

“I always wanted a baby, Rick…” she whispered, so quiet he barely heard her, “But until I met Daryl…I didn’t know who I wanted a baby with”

Rick placed his big hand on her knee and squeezed it gently, making Renée look up to him, “I know…you love Daryl very much. And I cherish my kids, I really do…but it don’t make you less of a woman…” Rick paused and observed her face, her cheeks damp with the leftover tears, “And I know how much you mean to Daryl…I don’t think you realise how we was before you came along. He was a troubled man, probably thought he’d never find anybody like you”

With one last squeeze of her knee, Rick stood up as if he was about to leave, “You’re family now, Renée…ya ain’t gotta have kids to show you love him…just love him the way you know how”

Sniffing, Renée nodded and smiled sadly at Rick; following shortly behind as he left the guard tower.

They both made their way back to the prison cells in complete silence until Rick disappeared into his cell, waving a goodbye to Renée as he did so. As Renée approached her and Daryl’s cell, she saw him perched on the edge of the bed hurriedly tying his shoes but still without his shirt.

As a shadow appeared on the wall he looked up to see his lover stood in the doorway and with a look on her face as if it was the first time she’d seen him in years.

“Renée…” he whispered standing. She smiled as she approached him quickly, he looked confused until she wrapped her arms around him, her head resting on his chest. His arms were still at his side, paralysed in confusion until they slowly crept around her.

“Renée, what’s wrong?” he asked, looking down at her; she pulled away slightly, still embracing him and looking up. Smiling with tears in her eyes; worriedly, he wiped her tears away, “Renée?”

“I love you, Daryl”

There was a slight smile on his lips and he pulled her back towards him, not completely understanding what bought this on; but uncaring as he held her fragile, petite body against his.

He kissed her head gently, “Let’s go to bed” and he felt her nod.


	15. Chapter 15

The morning had a thick sense to it, almost restless and Renée didn’t quite know why as she collected laundry from everyone’s room. She sighed as she threw the duvet into the basket, her back already aching, but not from the work she was doing.

Bending over she picket the basket up and started for the door when she saw a familiar body lean up against the doorway, Merle Dixon smiled his usual grin,

“Need some help?”

Renée laughed out of her nose, walking past him and into the cell next to it, Merle following behind, “You don’t have to suck up you know” she replied, gathering the laundry from the room again.

Merle chuckled, “I ain’t suckin’ up…” he paused as Renée looked over to him, amused, “…just lookin’ out for ya”

Throwing a pillowcase into the basket she replied, “I don’t need you to do that”

“I owe it to ya” he said, Renée looked up quickly, surprised at his words, “Ya shoulda shot me for what I did”

She smiled sadly, “Aren’t you glad I didn’t?” she asked, screwing up a shirt and throwing it,

He nodded, “Well yeah…But I still feel bad”

Her movements slowed as she listened to him at the same time, sighing quietly he continued, “Seein’ all the things you do for my brother, seein’ how happy ya make ‘im. Makes me feel shitty”

“There’s nothing that can be done” she replied bluntly, not looking at Merle; but he studied her, watching for her reaction, “What bought this on?” she asked, looking at him now, he shrugged.

“Don’t know…I just hate to think about what I did”

“Don’t think about it”

“I haven’t stopped”

There was silence now and Renée sighed, “Look Merle—”

“Take care of my brother” he said, this surprised Renée, he spoke as if it was the last word he would ever say. But he just kept staring at her, as if expecting something, “Ya promise?”

Renée nodded quickly, concerned for a suddenly emotional Merle. And as soon as she nodded, he had left with his head hanging lowly.

Immediately she thought about telling Daryl what just happened; but after pondering for a while she decided to leave it be, Merle seemed a little off when he walked off anyway so he might want some time alone.

 

* * *

 

“I need to get ‘im, you can’t track for shit” Daryl said, entering the common room. Surprised by the sudden commotion, Renée, Maggie and Beth looked at the startled couple Daryl and Rick. They both seemed restless,

“What’s going on?” Renée asked standing up to ask Daryl, but he quickly looked up, shook his head and ran past her into his room. Renée looked on, confused and followed him,

“Daryl!” she shouted after him, watching him gather his things, “Daryl, please tell me what the hell’s going on?”

He looked up at her, almost out of breath. She could tell her was stressed and angry by the way he looked at her and by his mannerisms, but she wasn’t backing down,

“Merle’s gone” he answered, pulling his bag of arrows on his shoulder, “I’m goin’ after ‘im”

Renée stood in his way, “You’re not going by yourself, Daryl. The governor is after us”

The more she argued with him the more annoyed Daryl became, he pulled on his jacket, looking at her in the eye, “Well you sure as hell ain’t comin’ with me” he ordered bluntly, Renée expelled air out her nose in annoyance and pushed against his chest when he tried to get past her.

“Daryl, you’re not going alone! Let me come with you!”

“Renée, get out my way”

“I can help, Daryl. It’s way too dangerous to go by yourse—”

“I said get out o’ my way!”

His shouting bounced down the hallway and she stood before him, tears pricking at her eyes; not wanting him to see her head lowered slightly.

Immediately feeling the hot pangs of guilt on his neck, he stepped forward to touch her but faltered, as if her body radiated a bonfire-like heat and she was untouchable. He could see her wanting to cry, but his hand could not reach out to touch her,

“I can’t lose ya again” he finally said as if the words themselves hurt to say. Renée looked up into his eyes and saw his genuine thoughts, but even though she now understood why he didn’t want her to go, she didn’t say anything in return as Daryl shifted around her on the mission to find his brother.

She stood there, fists clenched, angry and torn. It had felt like hours since he had left, it probably wasn’t but she felt like she had to wait. Her thoughts raced and her conscience was weighed the same, but in the end she changed her clothes and attached her handgun to her side and her rifle to her back; her machete where it always was, in her belt.

With a mission in her mind, she walked past everyone, focussed. But Rick had to be the one to stop her and his firm hand was on her shoulder at the door,

“Renée, you can’t go out there” he said in his southern accent,

“I need to find him, Rick. It’s too dangerous”

“He doesn’t want you out there”

“Well fuck what Daryl thinks, I’m going anyway” she pushed past him to the door.

“Renée don’t do this to him”

She turned when she was about to leave and stared at Rick, remembering the heartfelt talk they’d had, “Don’t ask me to leave him out there, Rick”

And for the first time in a while, Rick felt torn and guilty. The woman who had said to him that he had been the first person to make her feel worthy in the world was telling him she couldn’t let him die, that she couldn’t let him face the world she hated alone.

And he watched her as she ran beyond the gates, her gun pressed firmly at her side, hoping that nothing had happened to Daryl.

…

Daryl raised his crossbow, looking around the abandoned place, searching for any sign of possible life. He took note of a walker eating what he assumed had been a human, but looked nothing of the sort now. And as he crept past, being careful to be as quiet as possible, he noticed… _fresh blood._

The freshly smashed skulls of the undead lead a trail, a disgusting trail to a creature gorging on the meat of another. Sighing and without thinking, he shot the thing through the skull and it landed on it’s prey.

He pulled out another arrow and was about to reload when he saw another walker gorging on a body that looked from the front, familiar to him. A chill shook down Daryl’s spine and his worst fears were confirmed as it looked up and the soulless eyes of what was once Merle, stared back at a very alive but hollow Daryl.

Daryl often tried not to cry in moments where he probably should, but in this moment, the last known relative he had, the one he knew he had and the one he hated but loved at the same time, was gone with the disgusting creature inhabiting his body.

The walker stood, Merle’s eyes were no longer the colour they used to be, now they were hollow and saw Daryl not as a brother, but as food and prey. At this moment Daryl had not felt this vulnerable since he was a child, since him and Merle were children; his body tensed and appeared smaller. Tears began trickling down his face as he pushed his brother away, making the walker inside angrier.

With gun in hand, Renée heard the growling of a walker and of another tiny voice. And as she looked on from a distance, Daryl pushed away the walker a few more times, before stabbing the creature in the heart, as if he believed it would kill him, as if he believed his brother inside was still alive. To put him to rest.

She watched on in horror as Daryl continuously plunged his blade into Merle’s head, rendering the animal inside motionless. She ran towards him, of course he had heard her footsteps run towards him but his mind was concentrated on removing what proof there was of Merle’s face on the walker’s body.

She shouted for him and knelt beside him pulling him away, and at first he fought against her, wanting to complete his job. But she pulled him into her chest, the palm of her hand resting on the back of his head and her other hand around his back. Keeping his body close to her and with his face in her chest, listening to her breathing he calmed down and his breaths turned into tiny cries. Almost the cries of a baby.

Renée squeezed him tighter as she looked over to Merle’s corpse, not recognising who it was at first, but knowing from the lack of his right hand. Her fingers ran through the strands of his hair, keeping his face within her breast so he wouldn’t look at his brother. By now, his arms were around her tightly, as if he believed she would go away; he needed something in his arms, he needed something alive in his arms as he listened to her quickened heartbeat.

As time passed, his cries became less and less and the front of her shirt was now soaked in his tears. He pulled away and looked up at her, his cheeks damp and his eyes were red; she reached up and swept the hair from his face and her raised his hand, his thumb smoothing over her face. Her beautiful, alive face.


	16. Chapter 16

Renée stuffed a few of her clothes into her backpack, the weather had turned colder now so she was now donning a jacket on top of her tank top, with khaki jeans on her bottom half. She looked around at her and Daryl’s room, sitting on their bed and sighed. She knew she would be back but she hated the fact that the governor, who had caused her so much pain already, was still after them after everything that had happened.

She thought of Daryl and how she comforted him in his time of ultimate sadness, he was still in that state even now, a few days after. He barely spoke, he didn’t cry anymore, but he just dealt with it in silence. She swung her backpack on her back and left the cell, leaving it in a way that they had all packed up and left.

As she walked outside, she found the rest of the group packing up the cars; her eyes scanned around and she saw that Daryl and Carol were talking to one another, he blew smoke out his mouth as his head hung low. For a moment, he looked up at her and caught her gaze, but Renée quickly turned away, throwing her backpack into the back of the car and helping the others.

“She’s distant” Carol noted, Daryl hummed in response, taking another drag from his cigarette, “Surely you’ve noticed”  
  


“Yeah” is all he replied with, he didn’t look at Carol.

“I understand, Daryl, better than anyone. But don’t push her away…” Daryl noticeably tensed up, “…she’s all you have left”

And she walked away leaving Daryl with a blank look; after a moment, he walked up flicking his cigarette away and slid in next to Renée in the car. When he looked over at her, she was looking out the window, leaning on her arm.

It was very clear she was avoiding Daryl’s gaze, but in reality, she just wanted to give him time.

 

Staring out the window, Renée’s eyes felt heavier with the soft rocking of the car and the bumpy road. As her eyes slowly closed, she forgot about the world around her.

 

* * *

 

_In her bedroom, she curled up on her bed and cried. Her sheets were smelly and dirty, having not been washed in many months; her floor was covered in food that she had taken from the fridge without permission when she was hungry. Even the clothes on her own back, were dirty, neglected and torn with a huge stain on the back where her father would discipline her with his belt._

_Her parents were at it again; their arguments were ugly and terrifying; fuelled by their drugs. Ever since her little brother suddenly died they have never taken care of her or themselves, sinking further and further into a white, powdery, powerful abyss of abuse. She heard their screaming from downstairs and listened from her room; they were arguing about the baby again, the baby they lost._

_She heard the breaking of bottles and the rattling of thrown furniture so carefully she tiptoed out her room and down the messy stairs to peek at their argument again. She saw her father first, he used to wear collared shirts and a tie, but now he wears dirty polo shirts with blood-spattered jeans, never without a bottle of something in his hand._

_He had messy dark hair was tousled as he screamed at the woman in front of him, as she peeked around further she saw her mother. Who was once very beautiful, kind and calm, with her dark ginger hair that would cascade past her breasts with a vibrant curl throughout them. But now, her skin was pale and discoloured, her green eyes sunken in and her hair tied up messily behind her head. She was ordering her father to give her bottle back, as he had caught her drinking his share earlier._

_She saw the fresh injection marks on her father’s discoloured arms and she could see the fire in her mother’s face from the cocaine. She was afraid, so for a moment she stepped away, hoping they would not see her. Her face was covered in enough bruises already and her back still hurt from the daily beltings. But when she heard them hitting each other, she swallowed her fear and ran straight for her mother, who was hitting her father._

_She pulled at her mother’s arm, but instead of receiving a worried look from the mother, she turned and slapped the child away,_

_“Get away from me, bitch!” she cried at the small child who was holding her cheek and backing away. The father smiled at the child, as if receiving a horrible though,_

_“Oh Renée…do we have to do this again…” he muttered, sliding off his belt already with a wicked grin on his face,_

_“No, Daddy. I’m sorry!” she quickly said, still holding her face. The mother flicked the cigarette she had been smoking in little Renée’s direction, causing it to land right next to her. She cowered further into the corner, as her father stepped towards the frightened child,_

_“You little ungrateful bitch, after all we do for you…you’re the reason all this shit fucking happened!” With the last word, he threw the almost full bottle of whiskey towards Renée. It ignited her whole body in a fiery ball of light, therefore spreading up the walls and engulfing the whole house in a matter of seconds._

_“Mummy!!” she cried and her mother looked on, not doing anything as her child’s skin began to burn away. She and her husband evacuated outside as the fire bathed the whole house and was still burning all over her little body, now passed out on the floor. But her eye’s remained open, the image of fire burned into her vision for the rest of her life. A fear of fire controlling her life since that moment._

* * *

 

Suddenly, with a short intake of breath, Renée shot up awake in her seat. Alerting the rest of the group who was in the car with her, especially Daryl; she wasn’t crying but her eyes spoke of a horrible experience, she didn’t even have to say anything.

She sighed, asking herself why she was still being plagued with memories of her past; she forced herself to not look over at Daryl, but she knew he was looking at her.

“I’m fine” she muttered, before looking out the window again, feeling the heavy gaze that Daryl was giving her.

The governor has supposedly been and gone, shooting up Woodbury in the process it seemed. So understandably, the residents were afraid and had nowhere to go, many of them had been shot, so there weren’t that many to begin with. Renée watched from afar as they all entered the prison, seeing how scared they were she scoffed and kept well away. They didn’t know what the real world was like.

Daryl, without looking at her, sat beside Renée, watching the frightened people too. He sighed, but she made no effort to try and speak with him,

“What happened back there?” he asked, Renée bit her lip and lowered her head, so her hair was covering her face. She shook her head, making her curly brunette hair swish,

“Nothing, really…” she lied, knowing that Daryl wouldn’t back down. He shifted further towards her, surprising Renée by tucking her hair behind her ear; she looked towards Daryl with worried eyes,

“Hey…ya ain’t gotta lie to me” he said in his normal, low voice. She smiled a little and looked straight into Daryl’s eyes, seeing how genuine he was being; his hand still lingered on her face and unexpectedly he leaned in and grazed his lips against hers, sharing a soft kiss. He pulled away, smiled and walked away; leaving Renée with a soft smile on her features.


	17. Chapter 17

It had been a few months since the people of Woodbury had moved into the prison, Daryl, much like Renée, was having problems adapting to having so many hopeful people around. While they were all preparing a barbeque with a deer Daryl had hunted, Renée sighed and tucked her long hair into a bun, wielding a long metal pipe and immediately rammed it through the fence and straight through the walker’s head. She groaned at the horrible sigh as it fell against the fence, but continued her job.

After a few minutes of walker smashing, a hand was placed on her shoulder and she quickly turned around to see Daryl stood there. She smiled slightly, making his heart beat a little faster,

“Hey” she said, slightly happy, “What’s up?”

He notioned towards the gate, “Busy, huh?”

She nodded, her cheeks became red. It was almost as if they only just began dating with how bashful they were both being, “Yeah, they’re rampant today. There was a huge surge of them last night” she answered, swinging her metal pipe around,

“Hey listen, I need to go on a run later…”

She raised her eyebrows, “Well…I’ll come with you”

“No, I need ya to stay back, we got plenty o’ people…”

Renée sighed, “Daryl…Don’t bullshit me, I see right through you, you know” she smiled,

He chuckled, stepping closer to her he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her big green eyes stared up at his, he smiled, happy to see her happy,

“Okay, fine…maybe I wanna keep ya safe” his hand slid effortlessly around her waist and bought her forward in an embrace. Dropping her pipe, she held both her hands on his face, brushing his hair out his eyes in the process; slowly she bought her lips to his and his grip on her waist immediately tightened, making her laugh.

“Easy tiger” she joked, hands still on his face, “Just please be safe” she whispered,

“Promise” he answered, giving her a quick kiss before walking away. As he turned around, she glanced at his butt and gave it a soft smack, making him look back confused but mischievous; Renée giggled, before picking up her bloody pipe once more and finishing off what she began.

 

_Renée’s POV_

Daryl had already been gone a while by the time I’d finished up at the gates; I sighed and wiped my forehead, drenched in sweat from the hot mid afternoon sun. I walked slowly back into the prison and came across Maggie in one of the rooms, I smiled at her,

“Hey, how’s your morning?”

She scoffed and looked back at me, “Better than how yours looked, you look like shit”

I looked down at my own body and found myself covered in walker’s blood and guts and all manner of things I didn’t know what they were. I shrugged, “Underneath all this there’s a pretty lady” I replied, placing my tools down on the table next to her. She stretched out her hand towards me, offering me a hot drink. I smirked and accepted it, letting it soothe my aching body,

“Thanks” I said before sitting down next to her. She was silent for a moment before looking at me again,

“Do you ever wonder…what people were like before all this happened?” she asked. With the mug steaming in my hands I shrugged,

“All the time” I replied, taking a sip, “I think about Daryl…what he was before it all. I think about everyone in the group, can’t say the same for the Woodbury lot; seem like dull sacks of shit”

She laughed at what I said, “Yeah, not very unique are they” she looked back up at me, semi-serious now, “What were you like?” she asked. I raised an eyebrow,

“Well…you know what I was like and where I wa—”

“No, no, I mean your life. What were you like as a teenager or…somethin’?” she asked, I bit my lip. Thinking back to that time of my life for the first time in a while, I’d always concentrated on my childhood and what happened when I came to the US, not really the time in between that. It was kind of refreshing.

I rubbed my neck, “Um…as a teen? I was hell; think of any rebellious teenager and I was ten times worse by far” she didn’t react much to what I said, as if she expected it, “I was put into countless foster homes throughout my teenage life but I didn’t like any of them; spent most of my time just wandering, trying to get away”

She was silent, so I carried on, “That’s what being abused as a kid will give you, it leaves you behind with no trust and no hope in other people; even if they’re good people. And of course they always were…but it’s hard to become comfortable again”

Maggie nodded, sipping her drink, “So you don’t look back too fondly, huh?”

I shook my head, “Not really; I had a huge fear of fire when I was a teenager and even into my early 20’s. It used to consume me”

“Not anymore?”

“I don’t know…to be quite honest with you. I become very hyper aware of the marks on my skin whenever I see it, makes me feel a little self conscious”

“I see, I never notice ‘em” she shrugged; I sighed and stood up wiping my forehead again,

“Speaking of which I need to shower, I’ll see you later, thanks for the drink” I thanked her and quickly turned away, feeling that the conversation had suddenly become about my past once again. I rubbed my arm awkwardly as I walked slowly back to mine and Daryl’s cell; it seemed like no matter what I did I could never escape what had happened to me. I understand everyone is curious, who wouldn’t be?

When I arrived at the showers I quickly shed my sticky clothes and stepped into the warm stream of water, letting my whole body become enveloped in the nice, comforting feelings. As it trickled over my scars and my marks I closed my eyes, I still remember the look on her face.

 

* * *

 

The little girl watched as the lawyer showed the judge a slideshow, flicking through multiple pictures of the little girl’s body. Her back, her arms, her legs and face; the new burns on her body were still sore and they itched against her clothes, the belt lashes on her back were also pulsing with pain, even after the many days she’d been away from her parents.

The red haired mother was looking at her daughter, pale in the face and worried, but the little girl ignored her stares and looked at the slideshow; a ghostly, blank look in her eyes.

“As you can see Your Honour, not only are they not fit to be parents, but they are a danger to their only child” the lawyer shut off the presentation, grabbing little Renée out of her own little world. Her mother started biting her fingernails, looking over at her husband, who had possibly the least amount of sympathy that anyone could have. Not once did he look at his little, now eight-year-old, daughter and feel an ounce of regret.

The male judge looked over at the little girl with a sad look in his eyes, “I have heard all supporting evidence from both parties and have come to a decision. I see a mother who is apprehensive to go to prison and a father with no regret in his eyes and I see a little girl who has a blank look, terrified. From what I have heard I have chosen to completely disregard the defendant’s case; judgement to the plaintiff and I sentence the defendants to 15 years in prison on accounts of child abuse, drug abuse and neglect. That is all”

Everyone began shuffling and the father went away without saying anything but the mother could not help scream in protest,

  
“Let me see my child first! Let me see her!” she caught the gaze of little Renée from across the room as the mother struggled against the security guard. Everyone was silent as she shouted,

“Renée! My little girl, I love you!” It wasn’t clear if she was being truthful or if she was trying to get sympathy. Everyone looked over to Renée as she stepped out of her seat, a little folded up piece of paper in her small hands. The security guards let her through and she stood a comfortable distance from her mother; at first the woman smiled,

“Renée…My little—” she was cut off when Renée shoved the piece of paper in the mother’s hand; the little brunette girl looked up into her mother’s eyes and simply said,

“I’m not your little girl anymore”

Shocked, the mother was forced away by the guards, the paper in her hand. She was shouting again, insisting that she still loved the little girl she abused.

Renée felt a big hand on her shoulder and her lawyer bent down to her level, smiling sadly,

“What was the picture of?” he asked.

All Renée did was shake her head. Refusing to tell what was drawn on the paper.

 

* * *

 

She rinsed the shampoo from her head of hair and sighed, thinking about the look on her mother’s face. What Renée had drawn that day was a picture that had come to her in the hospital, recovering from her burns; she couldn’t remember exactly what the picture had on it, but it was of a burning house and maybe some figures representing her family.

She pushed the thoughts aside and switched the shower off, wrapping a towel around her and going back to her and Daryl’s cell. She was shocked to see Daryl sat on the bed, taking off his shoes; he looked up at her and mumbled,

“You’re early”

“Mm” he grumbled,

“I don’t really want to ask but how did it go?” she asked, he sighed, removing his shirt and laying back on the bed,

“Not good” he replied lowly. Renée nodded and dried her body and hair, grabbing her clothes.

“But better now I gotta see you” he smiled a little on the corner of his mouth, Renée smiled back looking down and picking up her underwear.

“Don’t put those on” he said, she looked up at him questionably, having never heard him say anything like this, “Just….c’mere”

  
She shrugged and shuffled into bed, naked and next to him. He shuffled also so that he was facing her,

“You confuse me, Daryl Dixon” Renée commented, her finger drawing circles on his chest, he chuckled deeply as his big hand came up to rub her shoulder,

“Why’d ya call me Dixon?” he asked, Renée furrowed her eyebrows,

“What do you mean?”

“Ya always call me by my last name”

“Oh? No reason, just sounds good together” she replied, smiling, “And it also…pisses you off”

“Hm” is all he replied with, “What’s ya last name?”

Renée chuckled, “Oh yeah! You don’t know my last name, huh?”

“Nah”

“I want you to guess” she smiled, shuffling her body closer to his. He rubbed his chin in confusion,

“Uh, why?”

“Dunno! Just seems fun”

After thinking hard for a moment about what stereotypical British surnames there were he finally came out with, “Renée…Smith?”

“Pff! No”

“Okay….uh… Renée Thompson?”

“No, Daryl where are you getting these names from?”

“I dunno! I just heard ‘em!” he thought again but couldn’t come up with anything, “I give up”

Renée chuckled one more time before revealing it to you,

“Renée Williams”

“Get the fuck outta here” Daryl replied making Renée laugh,

“I’m serious!”

“Renée Williams!? Sounds like a posh fuckin’ name”

“Uh huh, sure it does” she rolled her eyes. Taking a deep breath in Daryl slid his hands around her waist, pulling her body towards his; at the same time nestling his face in the crook of her neck, tenderly kissing the area there. The soft actions of this big, burly man made Renée hum quietly and happily in pleasure, she whispered his name as his hands slowly vacated from her waist and up to her chest. Now she knew exactly why he wanted her to get in bed naked.

Moving his head he caught her lips with his, distracting her and being able to gently and slowly position himself on top of her, his hand still cupping one of her breasts. Still kissing her passionately her hands smoothed over his bare shoulders, holding onto him as if he would go away. His other hand wandered to the sensitive area between her legs, when his warm hand caressed her, she moaned into the kiss as his skilful hands began to give her more and more pleasure.

As his hands slowly caressed her, her back arched and his mouth came to her ear and she could hear and feel his heavy breath. She could tell he was holding back. In response, she began to rub Daryl through his underwear and in return she heard his breathing become heavier; smiling she slipped her hand in the waistband and touched his hot skin, making him moan from the bottom of his throat.

Daryl came up and looked at Renée and surprisingly gentle went in to kiss her on the lips, when he came away he was smiling. He took her hand and pushed it away making Renée very confused,

“None of that today…” he said quietly, she was about to question it when he continued, “…I’ll treat ya today…”

And with that, he kissed the valley in between her breasts, over her stomach and then at the place where she needed him the most, which Renée returned with a breathy moan.


	18. Chapter 18

A scream echoed through the halls of the prison corridors, jolting Renée awake immediately. Sitting up in her bed she stared at the front door of the cell, currently closed as she had always done every night for safety. She placed her hand on Daryl’s shoulder hearing commotion outside; for a hunter she was surprised that he wasn’t already awake with crossbow in hand.

“Daryl!” she shook his shoulder harshly and he immediately opened his eyes, groaning,

“Wassup?” he asked until he heard another scream; quickly he threw a shirt on and grabbed his crossbow, already loaded, “Stay behind” he ordered before rushing off. Renée threw on some shorts and one of Daryl’s white shirts before rushing after him wielding her machete. Towards the sound of commotion.

As she followed the echoing sounds of screams, knife in hand, she was not expecting the scene before her. At her feet practically, a walker was biting a huge chunk out of a woodbury resident; in a surge of adrenaline she stabbed the walker and the dead resident through their skull.

Looking throughout the rest of the cells, it was chaos, Rick was already here with his knife, killing as many walkers that had already been infected as he could.

Another walker tripped up to Renée and trying to fight it off it pushed her against a wall, trapping her. It’s teeth trying to bite at her arm, she raised the blade to its throat and pushed it into it’s throat, cutting it’s head off. The blood from it’s throat pouring all over her white shirt.

As it fell to the floor, she breathed in a sigh of relief and looked at the area, now still, but flooded with blood.

The halls were now filled with cries, sniffles and dead bodies of what used to be the living. Renée looked at the residents mourning as she slowly walked through the carnage, in search of Daryl. Up the stairs is where she found him, shooting a walker through the brain with his crossbow, all he did is take one look at Renée and lost his shit,

“Thought I told ya to stay behind!” he shouted, Glenn and Rick were silent as they looked at each other. Renée sighed, wiping her knife on her shirt, it was already bloody enough anyway,

“I’m not here for you to boss me around, Daryl”

His only reply was holding his harsh words back and following Rick and Glenn away.

It had become very obvious that someone had died within the night but when Rick held the meeting they had no idea what had caused the young boy’s sudden death. With a new weight hanging on their shoulders, everyone proceeded to go back to sleep, except Renée who vacated herself to the showers with blood stuck in her hair.

As she approached the showers, she saw Daryl’s back as his head hung in the shower of water, taking no notice of anything. She immediately sensed something was wrong and placed her new clothes on the side as she approached the shower; immediately shedding her shirt and the rest of her clothes.

As she took her place next to him, he raised his head and rubbed his eyes, sighing loudly. Renée ignored his obvious frustration and washed the blood from her body, and it trickled away down the drain quickly.

“Shouldn’ta been there” he finally said, she didn’t even turn to look at him as she washed her hair, “Told ya to stay behind”

“Mmhm” is all she replied with, Daryl was just getting more frustrated, as if he’d gone back a few steps and he’d just met her for the first time all over again.

He remembered how much he disliked her attitude when he first met her, he remembered how she had pushed all his buttons. But now that she meant something to him, he’d become even more angry at her attitude.

“Ya won’t do that again” he said, Renée scoffed at him, turning to finally look at him,

“Are you fucking kidding me? You think you can treat me like a child, Daryl? No fucking way” she argued, her teenage anger revealing itself again.

“That ain’t the point!” his voice raised as he looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. It was as if when their gazes met their feelings became much more heated; stepping forward Renée’s anger became more and more disruptive.

“Then what is the fucking point!” she shouted,

“Need to keep ya safe!” he stepped towards her, his chest close to hers, his gaze was fiery,

“You cannot keep me safe all the time, Daryl!”

“I can damn well try!”

“Well you could have tried at Woodbury!” was her final scream; in a fit of rage his palm wrapped around her tiny neck and pushed her forcefully against the tiled shower wall; for a moment Renée gasped, genuinely not expected the level of force he had exuded around her neck.

Pinned against the wall, eyes wide she looked up at Daryl and she saw his pained expression; she had stepped on something deep inside. They were both breathing heavily and for a moment he regretted having scared her,

“Don’t…” he muttered lowly, his hand still around her neck, “Don't…say that”

Without another word he pushed his body against hers and kissed her harshly, his thumb tracing over the soft skin of her neck, his tongue and lips relishing at the feeling of her beautiful lips. When he pulled away he quickly said,

“I can’t lose ya…” he almost whispered the words. Her eyes never left his, but he continued to stare at the ground, firmly. Almost shaking, one of Renée’s hands came up to his face to move a strand of hair away so that she could see his expression. Her palm rested on his cheek and he nuzzled into the warm skin, her warmth heating up his whole face.

The hand that was still tightly wrapped around her neck lingered and Renée couldn’t quite tell what look he was giving her, it was the look he gave her that day when they met in the abandoned shack before they’d made love. The look that told her he wanted her but at the same time was frustrated at the fact; he pressed his body against hers, the look on his face never wavering.

He captured her lips once again, but not quite as softly this time; his kiss was harsh and needy almost. Renée reciprocated the kiss, trying to match his rhythms but she almost felt afraid, his hand was still grasping her airways tightly, his teeth catching her bottom lip harshly, it only reminded her of a different time.

As soon as he pulled away, he noticed the frightened look on her face, the same vulnerable look she had when he had gone to save her from Woodbury and he immediately felt a pang of sickness in his stomach.

For a moment she tried to form a word but was unable to, so without saying anything to him she gathered her clothes and quickly walked back to her own, original cell she had before her and Daryl had shared; right next to his.

Holding her clothes to her chest, perched on the edge of her bed she felt the familiar run of warm, salty tears down her cheeks; she closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the pillow, the wave of haunted memories and torn feelings sweeping over her body.

Daryl, however, watched as she quickly walked away; turning back to the shower, he rinsed his hair. Thinking back to the time where he had loathed the way she made him feel and came upon the realisation it was happening again; she was so important to him, he couldn’t let her go. But he knew he had to.

Fists balled in anger, he punched the tiled wall of the shower, once, twice and then three times. Each time his emotions pushing out the tears from his eyes; he felt shitty…because he had made her fear him.

 

* * *

 

Morning felt heavier as Daryl woke, a stiff feeling in the back of his neck and the same gross feeling in his stomach from the night before. He swung his legs off the bed; pulling a shirt over his head he pushed himself off his bed in search of some kind of breakfast. He passed Renée’s room and peered inside as he walked past, the bed was messy and unkempt; unlike Renée. But she was not inside.

As he arrived outside, seeing everyone having breakfast with a new weight of dullness on their shoulders, he tapped Carol on the shoulder making the small woman jump. She smiled as she saw him,

“Mornin’ Daryl” she said, he grunted in reply as Carol handed him some food, “What’s up?”

He shrugged, “Nothin’”

“Trouble in paradise, huh?” she asked, taking a bite.

“Whatever” he looked around, mentally noting she was nowhere to be seen, “Where’s Renée?” he asked, Carol smiled, knowing that’s what he really wanted to know.

“Rick asked her to go and fetch some of the ammo from Block A; should be back any minute”

Renée wiped her nose as she picked up the large box of ammunition and carried it in her arms until she wavered and dropped it on the ground; she fell to her knees with one hand against the wall of the corridor feeling a horrid sensation in her stomach.

Her mind was dazed and her eyes clamped shut as her body retched again and again, not quite getting whatever was stuck in her stomach, out of her.

“Renée, did you get the— Holy shit” Rick came to a halt in the hallway as he saw Renée expel a horrific amount of blood below her, she coughed a few times and spit the remaining blood out her mouth and turned to Rick; a pained expression coupled with a couple of beads of sweat on her forehead.

“Renée…” Rick almost sounded sad; with great trouble she stood herself up and nodded,

“I know…I’ll go…” she managed, covering her mouth to cough again. She wondered if she should pass on a message to Daryl through Rick but after thinking about it she didn’t really want to; she nodded sadly and turned around, heading sadly to the quarantine block.


	19. Chapter 19

RENÉE POV

I felt like I was in hell.

I felt like my insides were on fire and burning the flesh from the inside out; I had only been here a few hours and I had already seen infected after infected flood into the quarantine block. They all looked on the brink of death and I knew the doctor didn’t want to tell me, but somebody had already died from choking and suffocating on their own blood.

It wasn’t only my stomach that was aching, my head felt as if it would explode. Even a cough or the smallest sound would make it pulsate with pain; every now and then the doctor would come into the room and check on me, probably because the other were being picked off one by one.

I was having trouble sleeping, in fact I had hardly slept since I arrived. Slightly struggling to breath I positioned myself on the edge of my bed, trying my best to take deep breaths. Sweat dripping down my face and my body feeling hot, I tried to calm myself, not even noticing the person perched on a stool in front of me.

“He wasn’t wrong, ya look like crap”

I looked up and saw Hershel, a napkin around his nose and mouth,

“Hershel..?” I asked, coughing on the last syllable, feeling the return of blood up my throat.

He held out a small bowl to me and with shaky hands I took it from him, “You…shouldn’t be here” I managed. He seemed to shrug off my comment,

“Drink” he said, pushing the bowl up to my mouth. It didn’t taste great, but I assume it was meant to help.

“Ya shouldn’t have done that you know”

My eyes met his with confusion, “Done what?”

“Left without telling Daryl…he’s very hurt”

“And risk spreading what shit I have to him?”

“You know what I meant”

“Can’t be that hurt…” even the words I said hurt, they hurt my heart to say. Sure I was terrified of Daryl that one night, but he has pulled me out of moments I could have never done myself, and what he did came from a good place…just not executed the best. Something him and I have in common; difficultly executing what we really feel.

“He’s been demanding to see you non stop”

I didn’t really have anything to say to him after that.

“Renée, he loves you”

“I know he does, Hershel but—”

“No, what you had before was lust. Both of you were lonely. But now…seeing him and how he was before, that boy loves you”

It’s true, I didn’t know Daryl before; but I know Merle was a big part of how Daryl thought, which could not have been good. Then when Merle left, he began to think for himself, began to truly find himself. From what Maggie tells me, when he met me, he thought he hated me but couldn’t find the energy to truly hate me. I was the same, sort of, I did hate him at first until that night in the shack.

“I love him too, Hershel. He’s done things and had things happen to him and so have I, we just struggle to really show each other…I’m afraid of losing him”

Hershel continued to listen to me,

“I’m afraid of losing someone that I genuinely care about, I guess because of that…I’m scared of letting anyone close”

Not even a moment after I finished the last sentence I felt the familiar warm liquid come up from my throat and I quickly threw my head over the bowl and threw up way too much blood. Wiping my forehead I looked back at Hershel, weaker.

I lean forward to grasp his hand, “Hershel…if I don’t get out of here…” I cough again, feeling the pangs of pain, “…please tell Daryl I love him…and that I’m sorry”

 

* * *

 

Daryl sat in his cell, his head placed against the brick wall. He held a cigarette gently between his fingers, the fumes calming his body from the stress he was under. He sighed, watching at the day turned to night and having not moved a single muscle other than his arms, to light another cigarette after another.

Carol walked past the cell put paused after seeing him sat on the floor,

“Hey pookie, what’s up?” she asked, an everlasting smile on her face. Daryl only grunted, blowing his smoke away. Carol sat in front of the man and took the cigarette from his fingers, taking a short puff before handing it back to him,

“Checkin’ on me?” he asked lowly,

“Well, I do act like your mother” she answered, “But it’d be a lie if I said I wasn’t worried about you?”

He fiddled with his fingers, “Ain’t no need”

“Well I know that’s a lie”

“Hm” he grunted, not looking at her in the eye, “Just…what if she don’t come back?”

“Daryl…”

“No, I mean…the last thing I did to her was scare her; I don’t want ‘er to die…thinkin’ like that”

Carol was silent for a moment before she grabbed his cigarette again, “Well…I guess you’ve gotta make her wanna power through it” she said, standing up and leaving. That’s when he heard loud running steps down the hall; before he knew it Maggie was at his cell door, out of breath and clearly panicked,

“You need to come with me. Now”

“What’s goin—”

“Now, Daryl!” she shouted, picking up the medical kit Hershel had sent her for. A million thoughts zipping through his mind, he followed Maggie as she ran as fast as she ever had.

 

* * *

 

The night was not very young and everyone in quarantine was struggling. For once Renée felt as if she might actually be getting better, as she managed to get to sleep. But she was rudely awakened, feeling another horrible feeling in her stomach; like the worst period cramps, but even more shooting and painful.

Suddenly waking up, she held her stomach in pain already feeling the blood in her throat; she attempted to rise from her bed, feeling as if something was very wrong. But her body had lost too many fluids and she dropped to the ground, grasping her stomach once more. She attempted to shout out for Hershel, but the blood bubbled in her mouth and she spat it out; beginning to choke on it.

She tried shouting for him many times before giving up and laying on the ground, trying to breathe, but stopped due to her throat not having the space.

She struggled breathing for a moment, her body twitching and blood trickling from her mouth as it pushed its way out. Her vision began to fade but she saw Hershel beside her, he propped her head up slightly with his hand, trying to make it easier to breathe, but to no avail.

Her teary coated eyes looked up at the older man as he tried to help the best he could, reading the sucking device to dislodge the blood. But realising he didn’t have it, he shouted for anybody to bring him the extra things.

“Her-her-hershel…” she managed, more blood dripping from her mouth, she looked in pain.

He looked at her, there was a look to his eyes that she couldn’t quite describe, as if something would happen. As if he knew something would happen. She reached her right hand out to Hershel, her fists clasped around something in her palms,

“Tell….tell…Dary—”

A horrific warmth spread throughout her body and she felt herself distanced, Hershel’s faced whizzed backwards at a thousand miles and hour until it was completely gone. As the warmth spread to her fingertips, she accepted the warm, coppery taste of her own blood in her mouth and took a sharp intake of breath, but no exhale. With her lungs full of air that she would not use, a throat full of blood and dead eyes, she seemed to slip further and further away from the world that seemed like it was out to get her.

A world where she was being chased.

Hershel leaned in to hear the rest of her sentence, but when he looked back into her eyes, they were blankly staring at Hershel, in the original position they were. They were blank and lifeless; it was at this moment he realised she had stopped breathing.

 

“No…”

Hershel looked up towards the door to see Daryl, who had seen Renée on the ground, unmoving, lifeless and with no light in her eyes. The tears in his eyes did not run down his face, but they wanted to; more so, the shock of her not breathing was enough for him.

He looked as if his worst fear had come true.

 

* * *

 

He’d been running behind Maggie for what seemed like forever, his lungs screaming for him to stop and take a breath; but he couldn’t, he could only think about one thing now.

He saw Hershel in a far cell, kneeling on the ground and a small, weak voice, trying to say something. He got as far as the cell door when he realised the person on the floor, at his very feet, was Renée. He had just heard her voice and yet she laid there, her hair beautifully spread out across the ground and drops of blood coming from the bed and to her open mouth.

One of her hands was rested on her stomach, as if she was clutching at it; the other was reaching out to Hershel, the fists grasping something in her palm. But all Daryl could see was her face, how pale it looked, the colour in her cheeks and nose had all but disappeared and her eyes stayed open and her wide, green eyes stared up with nothing in them.

Daryl dropped to his knees, tears in his eyes, but resting there and not falling to his cheeks. He felt the same pang of pain he had when Merle had died, but this one came from a different place, he felt it in his stomach, in his heart, in his head, in his ears. All his senses were switched off in an instant.

He stared at his lover beneath him, he had never seen her so still.

“No…” he whispered, only loud enough for Hershel to heard, “Renée…” he shook her body, cradling her head to look at Daryl, but there was nothing, “Don’t do this to me…Don’t leave me…” he chanted, Maggie looked sadly at her father. He reached to his side to pull out his knife,

“No!” he shouted, pounding his fist into the concrete ground in protest, “We are gonna try!”

He knelt at her side, placing two hands on her chest and pushing down on her heart, Hershel sighed,

“Daryl…” he said, but he wasn’t having it. He looked at the older man in the eyes, begging,

“Just try…please” he almost looked desperate.

Looking down at the ever more pale woman, he nodded and readied the sucking device as Daryl continued pumping her chest, unable to give her air as Hershel dislodged the congealed blood in her throat. After a few minutes of nothing, he had finally emptied her throat and Daryl wasted no time on filling her chest with air. He carried this one for a few minutes before Hershel spoke up again,

“Daryl…she’s gone” he said, he shook his head once more,

“Nah, she ain’t!” he pumped her chest harder, almost afraid of breaking her fragile body, “She’ll come…” he muttered to himself.

One more pump is all it took before Renée’s throat contracted and her eyes focussed; she didn’t even have time to see what was around her before turning and throwing up beside her. Her arms shook beneath her and her throat ached as she threw up more congealed blood and a thick, yellow liquid.

Spitting out the rest from her mouth Renée’s eyes quickly rolled to the back of her head and she fell back into her original position. Daryl’s eyes widened immediately, Hershel couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Renée! Shit, Renée!” he shouted, holding her face.

“Don’t worry, she’s just exhausted” Hershel replied, he looked confusedly at the older man, looking for more answers, “See? Her face is getting more pink, her cheeks and nose are red and…” he placed his hand on her skin, “…she’s warm”

Hershel began to pack away his medical supplies as Daryl smiled, tears still in his eyes, overwhelmed. He pulled her body into his chest and felt the small rising and falling of her chest, the small whispers of her breath.

“It looks like she threw up whatever was making her sick, so you should be able to take her back to your cell” he said, Daryl looked up at the man, holding her head to his chest,

“Thank you” he smiled, letting one tear roll down his cheek. Hershel reached over and picked up the crumpled piece of paper that Renée had in her hand before she ‘died’;

“I think this is for you” Hershel handed the paper to Daryl, not opening it. He stared at it for a moment before uncrumpling it; his face warmed up with a feeling he couldn’t describe when he read the message in her beautifully, messy handwriting.

‘ _I forgive you. And I’m sorry, for everything’_

It wasn’t this that made Daryl almost cry again, it was the, ‘ _I love you, always’._

She had told him she loved him before, but this time, saying it before she thought she’d meet her death. It made Daryl sad but happy, but most of all. In love.


	20. Chapter 20

With the cloth wrapped around his hand, he washed her delicate face from the sweat that she had perspired in her time in quarantine. Underneath he recognised the Renée that he had fallen for, not the pale, sickly version he had found lifeless only a few hours ago.

He sat back in his chair after he readjusted her blanket around her, making sure she was warm. As he leaned back against the chair he observed her face; the way her cheekbones poked out a little and the moles on her skin. He admired these little things about her and didn’t realise how much he’d really miss them if she had died back there.

He could never quite take his eyes off her chest, making sure she was breathing every now and then. He’d been given enough of a scare already, he didn’t want to take any chances by taking his eyes off her for one moment; he’d been so indulged in watching her living form that he jumped a little when Carol placed her hand on his shoulder. She held a paper plate in her left hand, raising her eyebrows at Daryl,

“Jumpy today?” she commented, Daryl scoffed jokingly,

“That for me?” he asked, gesturing towards the plate, she nodded politely and handed it to him. His eyes returned to Renée as he took small bites of his food; Carol let out a small chuckle,

“Haven’t taken your eyes off her since she came back”

He grunted, “Can ya blame me”

“No, not really. If Sophia came back I’d be the same” she commented, only meaning for it to be a passing comment, but a sad silence passed through the cell.

“Anyway, I’m going on a run with Rick. I’ll see ya, pookie”

“Be safe” he said as she smiled and left. He turned back to the sleeping woman in front of him, watching her steady breathing once more; her hair tousled on the pillow below her. He felt his heart beat a little faster when her lips parted to take a deeper breath; then she shifted in her sleep, turning her body to get more comfortable.

She was now on her side and Daryl chuckled quietly, throwing another piece of meat into his mouth,

“Morning…” a small, weak voice said from the bed. His head snapped back up and Renée was laying there, her eyes open just a little and a small smile spreading across her features. He pulled his chair up closer to the side of her bed quickly, setting his plate aside and holding one of her small hands with both of his big ones.

He couldn’t say anything as his face was close to hers, seeing the life in her eyes. He just smiled; she shook her head slightly and reached up to flick a piece of food from the corner of his mouth,

“What would you do without me” she joked, resting her palm on his cheek. He held the small smile on his face, leaning his head into her palm, feeling the warmth and even her heartbeat.

“I thought ya were gone” he said, his smile faltering for a moment. Renée only chuckled quietly in response, lifting her body so she was sitting up, her face even closer to his now.

“But I’m here” she replied, lifting his head so he was looking into her eyes again. One strand of hair waved in her face and delicately he traced the lock and then flicked it behind her ear and over her shoulder; she hadn’t remembered the last time she’d smiled for so long. One of his hands drifted up her bare arms and up to her shoulder, feeling her soft skin underneath his calloused, worked palms; he rested his forehead on hers, closing his eyes as his palm rested on the nape of her neck.

Of all the times she had known Daryl, she’d pinned him not as the romantic type, he was very passionate with how he acted and very rarely took it slow. So seeing his taking his time to feel the smoothness of her skin and closing his eyes to take it all in, was very rare.

It didn’t take long for his lips to capture hers; the first short kiss was chaste, sweet and exhibited real emotions. Her eyes were still on Daryl’s face, but he never opened his as he leaned in for another, wanting to taste her once again, but hungrier this time. His thumb was softly rubbing over her cheek as he kissed her again; her eyelashes tickled his cheek as she closed her eyes, falling deeper into the kiss.

There was no grabbing, no need for each other’s bodies at that moment. All the other needed was the pressure against their lips, the feeling of their skin and the tender, fluttering feeling in both of their stomachs.

Daryl was the first to pull away and open his eyes, Renée almost stayed where she was, entranced by how much he had put into sharing that moment with her. He chuckled as she opened her eyes and saw a twinkle in his blue ones,

“I love ya” he said; it sent a whole new feeling through her body and she smiled widely,

“I love you too”

 

* * *

 

Rick walked up to the group of people that had congregated around the living area in the prison; his authoritive posture suddenly grabbed everybody’s attention. When he’d placed his hands on the table he had seen that someone was sat next to Daryl and noted that it was Renée,

“Renée…” his voice was low and a crack of a smile appeared on his face; the brunette woman looked over, her hair swishing over her shoulder, “You feelin’ ok?” he asked; she smiled in return and nodded. Daryl’s hand was loosely wrapped around her waist, resting nicely on her hip and at the sight, Rick was smiling, but it quickly faded when he thought about what he had to say.

“Hershel and Michonne have been gone for a while…longer than I’m comfortable with. I think somethin’ might have happened” everyone’s reaction was blank, there was absolutely no threat from anybody, so who could the threat possibly be?

“I wanna send a search party for them and fast”

Basically everybody was collecting their weapons, ready to go on the search; if there’s anyone they couldn’t lose it was Hershel and Michonne, they were both valuable members of the group. Having them gone would put them in a more vulnerable position.

Renée immediately gravitated towards the machine gun that was always at her side, but stayed in the living space to load her ammunition, making sure she had plenty to burn through if things went south. Thinking about mobility, she set her gun down and threaded her hair through her fingers to put her hair up in a loose bun, some of her baby hairs and longer strands floating around her face.

She felt a hand grab her arm and she turned to see Daryl’s blue eyes, “Ya ain’t goin’” he said, Renée puffed,

“Of course I’m going, Daryl. I don’t trust these Woodbury residents to do anything about it…what’s left of them anyway”

“No” is all he answered with. She tied her hair up and looked at Daryl, one side of his mouth lifted in a small smile when she saw her messy do, “Ya look beautiful” he complimented, his hand going round her waist and pulling her in so her lips captured his in a small kiss.

  
She smiled up at him as she pushed against his chest; grabbing her gun she strapped it to her side with her machete, she gave a small, cheeky smile to her lover before loading up her first round,

“Let’s go, Dixon”

He couldn’t help but chuckle lowly at her sass, he readied his own weapon and nodded,

“Let’s go, Williams”

But what met them outside made their hearts jump into their mouths, swallowing the air in their lungs and rendering them all immobile.

There, at the gates to the prison, was the Governor, with a new army at his side.

Determined once again to take the prison.

And at his feet, were Hershel and Michonne.

And for a moment, Renée met the Governor’s eyes. She had never felt so much hate.


	21. Chapter 21

Rick was trying his best; he was trying so hard to calm the Governor. I mean he had a fucking tank, but he did say he doesn’t want to blast a hole through ‘their’ home. He had proposed that they all leave before sundown and nobody would be harmed, but nobody believed him.

Daryl and Renée were still stood stock still, every now and then the Governor would turn his head to her direction, smirk and look away; angering Daryl. This was until the Governor directly confronted Renée, his voice was so far away, but it sounded like shouting.

“Hello, Princess” his eyes burned into her body and she clenched her fists, already feeling the rage wind up in her chest. He was smirking; Daryl looked to his right to see his lover, her chest rising quickly; her face said nothing but a want for revenge.

She stepped forward slightly, getting a better look even though she was still far away from him. He couldn’t help but feel slightly threatened by her protective stance of herself and her people, he half expected her to crumble seeing him again; but her tall, strong stance was unexpected. Daryl also stepped forward, his right hand creeping into her palm, when the two looked at one another Renée smiled slightly. He was trying to comfort her, something he’d never really done much.

“I’d say I’m still better than your little lover boy here” he said, Renée did not say a thing. She was better than that. She squeezed Daryl’s hand that was resting in her palm.

Rick was giving some sort of speech about how they could all live together; Maggie was on the edge of her seat as the Governor has Michonne’s katana against Hershel’s neck.

There was an irreplaceable silence that filled the air; the Governor took one more glance at Rick and then the prison, with a hopeful look in the one eye he had left.

He glanced over at all of them, his eye squinting when his gaze met Daryl’s; a protective stance blanketed the woman next to him. Then his eye met Renée’s and he saw nothing but hatred and the need for revenge. He almost smirked when she kept the look on her face, giving the impression that she would keep her promise, that she would kill him.

“Liar”

The look on Hershel’s face when half of his neck was cut off stayed how it was; Renée couldn’t even hear Maggie and Beth’s screams as they watched their beloved father fall to the ground. The hand that Daryl had been holding loaded her gun and she pointed it at the Governor, her first shot hit him in the arm before she had to take cover, a bullet narrowly missing her head.

As she ducked for cover, so did Daryl and she looked beside her to see his scared, frightened face. The two of them had an entire conversation just completely with their eyes, the look of panic on both of their faces drowned out the noise of scattering bullets and screams; it sounded so distant.

Without thinking Renée grabbed the front of his shirt and smashed her lips against his, keeping her eyes closed so she could savour perhaps the last taste of him she would ever have. When they slowly pulled away, a tear was making its way down Renée’s cheek and she smiled sadly, Daryl’s face held little emotion, as he was numb.

Numb to the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

She ripped the necklace from around her neck, a rare something she had since she escaped at the beginning. The gold charm hanging on the end was a small red stone; she shoved it into Daryl’s hands as his eyes began to gloss up, tears threatening to escape them.

“I love you”, she whispered sadly, making his fingers curl around the necklace she’d just removed. A tear gathering in the corner of his eye, he replied quietly,

“Always will”

The sound of a grenade on the other side of their cover separated them and Renée rolled under more cover; poking her head up and shooting at the Governor’s men, who were making their way into the prison.

Reloading, Renée scouted for sights of the man himself. Seeing him wounded in the middle of the grass outside the fences; confirming her machete at her side, she continued on, shooting at many of his men and women through their heads as she was able.

She’d managed to get through most of the mess without any hassle, but her panic truly set in when she was unable to see Daryl anymore. She could see Maggie and Rick, but not Daryl.

A walker grabbing her by her gun that was strapped around her torso rudely interrupted her thoughts; struggling with the beast, she grabbed for her machete. Finding difficulty with getting her weapon and fighting off the walker at the same time. As she sliced the walker through the brain her eyes landed on the Governor, who was attempting to crawl his sorry ass away.

With eyes of bloodlust and her clothes now covered in the remains of the deceased, she slowly walked towards the Governor, machete tightly in her palm. She dropped to her knees and grabbed him, flipping him over; he held a handgun in his hand, immediately firing it upon being disturbed.

The bullet ran past her cheek and she groaned in pain, wiping away the blood with her hand and turning back to the smirking man. He was laughing; she grabbed his throat in her hand and squeezed as hard as she was able. Using the opportunity to trap him by sitting on top of him, kicking his gun away in the process. As her hand strangled him slowly, she saw his eye look up to her, for the first time in terror.

Now it was Renée’s turn to smile, machete ready in the other hand.

“I told you I would kill you…” he struggled against her hands, desperate for air, but was unable to fight the woman off. She rammed the knife into his chest; blood spurted out the wound and on her clothes. She removed it and then stabbed him in the stomach; blood began to bubble in his throat as his hands went to her face, wanting her to stop.

As she slammed the machete in his head, her body stayed stock-still. A rush soaring through her body and she was overcome with the feeling of draining; but felt nothing else. Her hands began to shake and a wretched feeling pooled in her stomach, a strained moan of pain came from her throat and she looked down, a steady fall of blood began pouring from her side.

She stared at it for a moment, the pool of blood only getting larger and it soaked into her clothes, merging with the blood of others. Her palm immediately went over the wound and she keeled over in pain at the contact, she could now feel the bullet stuck inside of her. She squeezed the skin around it, trying as hard as she could to close it, but nothing happened.

Screaming in pain she looked up to where she had heard the gunfire and her teary eyes met Rick’s. He was in the middle of he prison, as far away as Renée had been from the Governor initially. A tear fell down her cheek as she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing could come out. His face was white at the realisation that he had shot Renée, his mouth open in surprise, he watched as the colour left her face.

“Rick…” she whispered, but in Rick’s ears it sounded like a scream and he watched her face as she whispered it over and over again. But it was distancing at Carl shouted towards his father that they need to leave, her looked back at the dazed woman one more time, her dry lips mouthing ‘Rick’ one more time before he faced his son, who had seen nothing, and left.

Another tear escaping, Renée inhaled before her body felt heavy and she fell beside the Governor. She watched the dark clouds above her and heard the walkers tread around her as her struggled breaths left her body; she felt the warm, eery feeling of heaviness envelop her body from her wound outwards and she felt as if she were sinking into the grass, the blood stained strands tickling her defeated body.

She thought about her life, pondered about it. Her troubled, abusive childhood, the drug fuelled teenage years, the lost feeling of her adult youth, the blood-curdling thought of her capture. But then the sun began to poke through the clouds above her and she thought of Daryl and how her life had only really began when she’d met him.

He was the ray of sunshine poking through the dark, rainy clouds.

In a fleeting second, she thought of the times she had shared with him. Their hatred for one another that seemed silly to her now, but she still smiled at; their first night in the shack out in the woods, their attempt at love, the hardships that came in between and the inevitable fear of death separating them.

Her wound felt as if it was pulsing, but all ideas of pain and time were absent to her now. The light surrounding the poking ray of sunshine only grew brighter and she used her thumb to feel the ring around her finger, it was plain, but something she treasured as Daryl had given it to her after the Woodbury residents moved in.

She imagined his smiling face, how warm his smile would envelop her heart.

She felt trapped to the world she was fleeing by just being in love with him; as happy as she felt in that moment, dying and thinking of him, she wasn’t ready to die. Because she loved him.

Her eyes fluttered as the sun shone brighter, her vision beginning to fail her, the warming feel of death and the tingling sensation of the coldness on her skin began to frighten her, she badly wanted to get up and find him, let him know she and everything else would be alright.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t lie to him.

 


	22. Chapter 22

It seemed to never stop. The walker outside knew she was in there and wanted her as its meal, it’s gurgling moaning are all that filled the air. Renée was least concerned with the walker and more so with the bullet wound in her side; it had festered for a few days and she had been unable to remove the bullet without screaming out in pain. The wound was still bleeding somewhat and was beginning to look infected

 

She sat on the edge of the cabin’s bed, remembering how this was the place she and Daryl had made love for the first time a long time ago. She’d ditched her bloodied shirt long ago, opting to take care of her wound first and find another. In front of her she had started a small fire, where she was burning the end of a metal poker.

Mustering all of her courage, she reached into the wound with her two fingers and felt around for the bullet; she contained her moans of pain withdrawing her fingers to give herself a small break. It had to come out right now.

“Fuck’s sake…” she cursed, reaching into her wound again her fingers dug around for the small metal object. The tip of her finger eventually brushed against it and she pushed into her body harder, causing a surge in an indescribable pain. She rode out the wave of pain and pulled it out, examining it before throwing it across the room; thinking about how she received the wound.

The worst part wasn’t even over, so she thought she might as well get it over with. Without a lingering thought, she grabbed the red-hot poker and pushed the hot end into her wound, she couldn’t help the scream of pain that came out when it burned against her skin.  She held it there a few seconds before letting it drop to the ground, the end still red and piping hot.

With her wound taken care of, she rummaged the many drawers for a new shirt and opted for a black vest top and a black button up; her jeans would have to do for now. Sighing loudly she picked up the metal poker and sauntered towards the door, the walker outside still wanting her. Swinging the door open she thrust the poker through its skull, the blood puddling the floor and the moaning stopped. She shut the door behind her, barricading it once more.

The cupboards weren’t much help, all she could find were some canned beans; but she ate them anyway. They were vile when they were cold but her stomach was full now; finishing the can she placed it on the table beside the bed and let her back fall against the mattress.

A wave of warmth and sleepiness washed over her as she dreamt.

_Renée placed the laundry basket on the ground, stretching her back after the long day of work. In her shared cell she began to undress, the curtain across the entrance protecting her privacy. She pulled her shirt over her head and kicked off her jeans, feeling much more at ease already._

_As she reached behind her to pull her bra off, Daryl’s head poked around the curtain and she froze in her place. A small sideways smirk played on his face as he made his way in,_

_“Don’t let me stop ya” he muttered, standing behind Renée._

_She unclipped the bra and let Daryl smooth his hands down her shoulders, pushing the straps of them down and letting it fall to the floor. She turned around, her hands resting on his chest; she fiddled with the buttons of his shirt and undid them one by one._

_He let his shirt fall away and Renée leaned up to kiss him; after a few chaste kisses they began craving for more skin to skin contact. Daryl’s hands ran all over her back as he pushed her towards the bed, his lips hungrily devouring the taste of her._

_Her back met the soft bed and Daryl took his place on top of her, his calloused fingers ran down her body, between her breasts and down her stomach, making the hair on her arms stand up. Her kissed her neck, making his way down her body slowly; pushing her body down making sure she stopped moving._

_He stood up on his knees and unbuckled his belt, dropping his bottoms. Quickly he leaned down and pulled her underwear to the side and kissed her neck again, feeling her hot breath against his shoulder, she moaned as she felt him against her._

_Her hands found Daryl’s back when he pushed into her, his hand pulling one of her legs up over his hip so he could feel all of her._

_“Daryl…” she breathed against him as he began to push faster…_

Her breath hitched as she woke up, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room. She traced the wooden patterns on the roof before noting that it was indeed a dream; sighing, Renée sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“As if I just had a wet dream…” she muttered, laughing slightly at herself. She was suddenly bought back into reality, a reality where she didn’t know if Daryl was alive or not.

She pushed herself off the bed and gathered the last of her things and her attention was again drawn to another walker murmuring behind the door. Unsheating her machete, she tore down her makeshift barricade and opened the door, the walker barely had a moment to look at her before she sliced her weapon halfway down its skull. Renée pushed its chest to free her machete, wiping the blood on her already bloody jeans.

The world outside wasn’t much better, everything was dull and it was early morning and she knew she couldn’t stay in that shack forever. She had to try and find Daryl.

The next few hours could have been a minute, no clue where she was going, it all looked the same after a while and her body was struggling. The end of her ponytail tickled her body as her body swayed through the branches and the leaves, the heavy aura of the forest made her feel gravitated even more so to the leaf covered ground.

No tracks. Nothing.

Daryl didn’t come this way. He never did.

Renée sighed to herself but her thoughts were interrupted by leaves rustling in the distance. Alarmed, she quickly disguised herself behind a tree and made an effect to quieten her breathing, they were coming closer; in preparation she placed her hand on her gun in her holster, mentally noting how many bullets she had.

“Saw someone go this way, sir” a male voice said, it was distant, but too close for Renée’s liking.

“Very good, very good. Track ‘em, couldn’ta gone far” the man, who was assumed to be the leader commanded,

Two man left, but the leader remained. He seemed to be looking around; at one point he squatted on the ground and looking at the leaf covered ground, his gaze slowly crept up, a smirk forming on her face.

“Come out” he ordered.

 

* * *

 

Beth held the glass of alcohol in her hand, sitting opposite from Daryl, he instead gulped his, pouring another and another and another.

“Daryl…don’t drink so much” Beth said, every care in her voice, but it came out patronizing.

Daryl responded by dropping his glass on the floor, scattering into tiny pieces and dancing across the wooden floor, the moonshine bottle still in his other hand.

“Be careful!” Beth scolded, afraid to make too much noise. He was sat back in the chair, slouching. Holding something within his palm, wrapped around his fingers was a chain of some sort. He held it up to his eyes, the stone hanging from the beautiful necklace; Renée’s necklace.

He gripped the jewellery in his hand harshly; all he had been able to think about was her. Everytime he saw the small gold charm he thought of her face and the fact that she may be dead; he saw her dead face, blood all over her torso, her vacant eyes when she turned into a walker. He didn’t want to imagine it.

He threw the gold chain across the room and it hit the wall with a loud bang, cascading to the ground, sounding broken. He rubbed his eyes with his hand and emptied the moonshine bottle down his throat,

“Daryl, what the hell!?” Beth shouted, “Stop that”

“Stop what” he said in a low, almost hurt voice. He was holding back his tears, Beth knew it. He pushed himself from the chair and stood in the corner, relieving himself,

“What are you doing?”

“I’m takin’ a piss!”

“Daryl!”

“What?! Oh I’m sorry li’l girl, I ain’t pretendin’ everything’s ok! Maggie, Rick, Glenn, they prob’ly all dead by now! You ain’t ever gonna see ‘em again!”

Beth inhaled sharply, her eyes angrily staring at Daryl,

“We’ll see ‘em” Beth replied quietly,

“What was that? We gonna see ‘em? They’re dead…long dead by now” Daryl replied, pacing back and forth,

“Just cos you don’t give a crap about anything doesn’t mean I have to!” Beth stood from her place on the floor, fully confronting the angry redneck now, “We’ll see Rick, Carl, Maggie, Renée—”

“Don’t” he said with such a sharp tone that it sent a shiver down Beth’s spine, he shoved his finger in her face, and his expression looked like he was ready to both break down and murder somebody. With each syllable, he shoved his finger further in her face, making her step back, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare…say her name” he warned.

The veins in his arms were pulsating with anger, his face was red and even though he looked the most angry she’d ever seen him, he also looked ready to cry.

“Look Daryl…I know…my Dad, I lost him too ya know” she tried to empathise with him but he wasn’t having it,

“Ya wanted to shoot a crossbow right? Let’s go do it now, huh?” he said hastily, his breath was quick, as if his mind was running at a million miles an hour,

 

He grabbed her arm and then his crossbow, keeping his firm palms on her all the time he dragged her outside, pulling her against him, he aimed for the walker.

“See? This is fun” he said, smiling and holding her against him while she tried to struggle. He shot the walker and it was pinned against her, he continued to shoot it, antagonsing Beth.

Once she got free she quickly ended the sick little game and stabbed the walker through the head,

“What? We we just startin’ to have fun” he said, misunderstanding why she stabbed it.

“Will you just stop?!”

“Stop wha—”

“Stop actin’ like you don’t give a crap about anythin’!” she answered, this seemed to strike a chord inside his mind.

“Yeah cos I don’t!” he answered, putting his emotional walls back up again,

“Bullshit, Daryl! I know you care about her! Renée, she’s still alive! We’ll find ‘em!”

“Shut up!” he shouted in her face, but she continued,

“I remember when you had hope, Daryl”

He turned away from her, shaking his head, “Bullshit…”

“No it ain’t bullshit! I know you were the happiest with her! You loved her, you know it, I know it! She knows it…”

For the first time…he went silent, listening intently now,

“She’s out there, Daryl…don’t just pretend like she meant nothin’ to ya. Don’t just…pretend that you weren’t loved…”

“Nah…” he answered quietly, “She meant…she meant so much more” his voice was like a whisper, like he was talking to himself.

Beth stepped forward, her hand grazing his arm, but he pulled away, “No…the governor, he rolled right up to our gates…your dad…the governor and Renée…he just”

Beth hugged the man’s torso from behind, knowing he wouldn’t look at Daryl. His head hung in sadness, remorse and guilt.

Sadness for Renée…the fact that he may have to face that he may never see her again. The fact that he had such a good thing, that someone loved him for such a short time but bought his walls down so quick. Giving him a glimpse into love.

Remorse for Renée…that he let her disappear into the smoke on that day. He watched her run, gun in hand and he watched her disappear out of his life. He still remembered the way her hair bounced when she escaped; the expression on her face when she pushed her necklace into his hand.

Guilt…

Guilt because he didn’t protect her the way she needed to be protected. So much had happened to her and so much could not have happened to her…if he had been there to protect her. And that his pride swallowed him whole before she fell ill and was so close to dying.

It was that moment that he felt truly responsible for someone’s death; he felt as if he had left someone with the last thought in their head that he didn’t care for them.

Even after the governor…violated her, he let his pride swallow him. Left her.

And that aching pain remained…the dull ache that it left behind. Issues that were never quite resolved…now stabbed him before he slept at night.

He let the tears fall now…as Beth’s arms wrapped around him.


	23. Chapter 23

“Come out” his horrifyingly, sinister voice whispered. Renée almost stopped breathing, the air in her lungs was sucked out and her body shook with fear, her hand still on her holster. She heard his shotgun reload,

“Don’t even think about using anything on me sweetie”  he almost sounded excited as he held the gun in his hand; confidently waiting for her to reveal herself.

She started breathing heavily again, thinking about whether or not she could try and escape, but from where she was she couldn’t see any way of escaping.

Suddenly, a shot rung out through the air making Renée jump, a small scream came out of her mouth as he had shot the tree beside her; her breathing quickened even more.

“Don’t make me mad, sweetheart”

The sheer nickname made her angry and she bit her lip, thinking about how nice it would be to bash his head in. Pulling her gun out the sheath, she stepped out from behind the tree, her chest rising and falling with her laboured breathing. Her eyes met his and she saw nothing she liked in them, something sinister…something evil.

He smiled, but only the corner of his mouth was raised; it couldn’t be more obvious what he was thinking as his eyes swiftly glided down her body and back up to her face. Her face was smooth porcelain, pale but hidden by marks of dirt and hints of blood, somehow making her green eyes stand out more. One strand of hair fell to the side of her face out her ponytail that was hanging over her shoulder.

Her thumb grazed against the metal of her handgun, her gaze staring into his body fiercely.

“Well boys, look what I found” he whispered; Renée felt the presence of three men to the side and behind her, she held her face high, not letting it bother her, she could feel their perverted gaze.

“Can we take her back…she’d make a good one” one man asked, Renée’s gaze remained on the leader and his on hers. He smiled with his teeth, his shotgun still pointed at her. He had darker skin than Renée and his hair was a darker shade of blonde, brown at the roots; his eyes were blue, but not the beautiful, trusting blue she’d known in Daryl. They were almost grey, see through.

“No” he replied, surprising all of his men, “I’m gonna have her for something else…” he said, looking deep into her eyes. She’d had enough of his shit by now, quickly she raised her gun and attempted to shoot him; her shot missed as she was tackled to the ground by his men. Falling to the ground, she scrambled back up, throwing dirt into one of the men’s eyes and kicking him back. Turning to the other man, she directed her body weight to punch him in the face multiple times.

Two arms grabbed her from behind and she tried as hard as she could to break free, but was unable to as she fell to her knees; the man who she’d punched wiped his bloody nose and smiled at her.

Grabbing her hair the man behind her made her look up to which she got a firm slap then a few punches to the face, her body fell back as they kicked her; one of them clambered on top of her pushing her head down and pointing a gun in her face. But her expression never faltered,

“That’s enough, boys”

The leader sauntered towards them, the man climbed off Renée and she lay on the floor, her eyes looking fiercely into his; he knelt down to her face.

“What a shame they messed up your pretty face” Renée wasn’t flattered at all.

“I’m Thomas…what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Renée stayed silent, a trickle of blood slid from her nose as she sat up from the forest ground, she wiped it away with her hand.

He chuckled to himself.

“Bring her back with us” he stood up, turning his back on her. She watched him walk away as one of his men hit her on the head with the back of his gun, making Renée slide in the bliss of darkness, her body fell limp against the ground.

 

* * *

 

Renee gasped out as ice cold water was poured all over her, most of it migrating into her mouth and lungs, the rest slithering painfully down her body, waking every nerve. Her body shivered instinctively and she looked up to find a man stood over her, a man she didn’t recognise as her captor. He was smirking down at her, he was what she would describe as a ‘slimy’ man. She looked up at him and he dropped the bucket holding the ice water and sauntered to stand in front of her. His resting pose was putting all his weight on one leg, one hand stuffed down his boxers and smiling. Clearly, trying far too hard.

 

The room was carpeted, so Renee was half surprised that he’d gone through the effort of pouring ice cold water over her, she could only assume his leader didn’t care for his outpost. It almost looked like a living room of what was once a home, but much bigger. Like a hotel. And that is what Renee assumed it was, an old hotel being used as a safe haven.

 

“Well well…look at you” he said, a very deep Southern accent echoed out.

 

She found that her hand were tied to the arms of the chair with zip ties, there was no chance she’d be able to get free, she didn’t know how to get out of zip ties. There were the faintest smears of blood under her nose towards her cheek and she could feel that her body has been badly beaten, her bones ached and her skin felt sensitive under her clothes. She knew they’d have no mercy on her, at least to get information.

 

But she had none to give them.

 

His hand retreated from his boxers and to his back pocket, pulling a knife from it and holding it at his side. Still smirking, he walked over to Renee and knelt beside her, knife placed delicately in his hand. She gave nothing away in her face, she only wanted to kill him.

 

“Now darlin’. This could be difficult, for you and for me. But it could also be easy…” uninterested, Renee looked ahead, so that she was not looking at him anymore. But he still studied her, “…so…where are the rest of your group”

 

There was a long silence and she thought hard about whether or not to say anything at all.

 

“There isn’t a group” she said bluntly.

 

The man took a deep breath in and exhaled smiling,

 

“That ain’t the answer I want”

 

“I don’t have the answers you want” she spat, annoyed.

 

He shook his head, placing the knife to her forearm. He pressed down lightly, just enough to cut the surface, like a papercut. Renee clenched her fists, feeling the itches of pain already, but she daren’t show it on her face. He smiled at her, expectantly almost.

 

He flicked the knife away, creating a deeper pocket at her wrist, she could feel the warm rising of blood from the wound. The man stood and walked towards the door, knocking twice and waiting. He waited mere moments before another man walked into the dark room, he had dark blonde hair and dark blue eyes, not the same kind blue eyes Renee had been used to. He sauntered slowly towards her, turning up the ends of his sleeves to rest just above his elbows, as if in preparation.

 

“Any luck?” the man simply asked the other. The smiling man shook his head, humoured by Renee’s adamant nature. The blonde man pushed his hair back, probably thinking he was either being intimidating or just trying to look better than he was. There was no denying he was considered attractive to the normal person, but in this moment Renee could think of nothing more pleasurable than shoving the iron stake she’d been eyeing across the room through his body.

 

“What a shame”

 

He pulled a knife from his belt, it was longer than the other man’s had been and Renee thought that he might be overcompensating, but daren’t say anything to inspire him. He pulled up a chair in front of Renee’s, resting his elbows on his knees, tossing the knife between his hands. He had the slightest of smirks on his face, as if remembering something funny.

 

“I’m usually against torturing women” he started, “…but, you’re a special case”

 

Renee inadvertently began to shake, the reaction only now kicking in from the cold water dumped over her before.

 

“Now, you’re going to tell me all the things that I _need_ to know” he said deeply. Renee stared at him blankly. He was almost waiting for her to respond, but realised not so soon after that he wasn’t going to receive a reply.

 

“You know…I know where all your organs are, to the inch”

 

“Here…” he placed the knife against her side, poking at the organ he imagined in his mind.

 

“And here…” he moved the tip of the knife to her abdomen, making her fists clench. The knife’s blade sat right at her scars.

 

“I was a surgeon…before all this”

 

 _‘Course he was’,_ Renee thought, her mind wandering to her brief semester studying nursing at university, ‘ _Surgeons are cunts’._

 

He leaned in, the knife digging uncomfortably into her abdomen, whispering, “I know how to hurt you…without killing you. So I would suggest…you tell me what I need to know”

 

Renee looked up from the knife to look into his eyes. They were cold, unforgiving. And she knew at that moment he would do as he said, but she still said nothing.

 

“No” she simply answered. And for a second, he wasn’t sure how to react, speechless. Then he dropped his head, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He was amused by her attitude. But deep inside, he enjoyed her and could not deny that. When he looked back up to the woman across him, he couldn’t help the wide smile on his face.

 

“I like you” he simply said. Renee felt disgusted by his words, she didn’t need him to like her. She didn’t need to feel the drag of his gaze over her body. The mere thought of it made her feel heavy inside.

 

“I don’t want to kill you…” he said quietly, flipping the knife in his hand so that he was holding it by its handle, his thumb rubbing over the flat edge, “But I will hurt you”

 

Quickly, with the most amazing precision as he promised, he plunged the knife into Renee’s knee, just above her kneecap. One flick of the knife would mean the absolute destruction of it, but he didn’t seem to mind. Renee had tried to contain her pain, but eventually gave in. Letting out a cry as he stabbed the blade into her, feeling the warm sensation all around her leg already. She leaned forward in pain, fists clenched, but refused to let her tears fall. Refusing to give him the satisfaction.

 

She looked up at him, her skin shining with sweat from the adrenaline. But he only looked blankly at her, pushing the knife as far as it would go into her knee so it was almost entirely through and catching the sensitive place at the back. She groaned loudly in pain as he pushed the knife in.

 

He took his hand off the knife and leaned back in his chair, arms folded and regarding her, as if admiring a work of art. The smile reappeared and so did Renee’s defensive face, despite the obvious agony.

 

“I could leave you like this…you won’t die, not quickly anyway. Or…you could tell me what I want to know…and I’ll get a doctor to come and fix you up”

 

Renee said nothing. She looked into his eyes, her defensive streak not dwindling in the slightest. And he waited a minute, a minute that felt like forever for her as she felt the knife in her leg. He leaned forward and pulled the knife from her knee quickly, making Renee let out a painful wail, the blood now soaking her whole leg. She looked up at him to see him cleaning his knife off on his shirt, as if wearing it like a badge of honour. He sheathed it again and pulled a bottle of vodka into his hand from the table next to him, carelessly opening it and pouring it on the new wound.

 

Renee felt her throat getting sore from the painful groaning, but she knew what this meant. He wasn’t quite committed to edging her towards death, he wanted to keep her alive. But for what, she didn’t know. The alcohol burned inside her body, she could feel its cold, icy touch in her blood. And she watched him leave wordlessly, a doctor stepping in after him to bandage her knee.

 

“Where’d you find her” he asked, walking alongside the man from before.

 

“Out in the woods” he answered plainly, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that this man was the boss due to his intelligence over the others. They were desperate, easily-lead people. He was almost a perfect leader.

 

“She was by herself”

 

“I know”

 

The man looked over at his leader, shocked, “You know? Why’d ya torture her then?”

 

“Just a bit of fun, Pete” he smiled. Pete looked almost concerned, but ultimately was afraid of his overshadowing leader. So he said nothing.

 

“Well…what you gonna do with ‘er? She was on her own so there ain’t nuthin’ to gain”

 

“Oh, yes there is”

 

They came to the end of the hallway to which the man opened the double doors, revealing the communal grounds of his large compound. There were women, children carrying food, farming, doing laundry, everything that you should have expected women to do 200 years ago. He looked over his people for a moment before approaching the main spectacle. A cage, at least 30 feet high 60 feet squared. Inside there were men confined to a small space in the middle, tied up with zip ties and chains with walkers from all angles tied up as well, but desperately wanting to reach them.

 

He admired his creation. He had captured the group he intended. They had stolen his food, killed a few women from his compound. But what he hated most was that they surrendered almost immediately after getting caught.

 

“They’ve been there for months now, don’t know what to do with them” he said to the other man named Pete.

 

Pete looked over confused, “And now ya know?”

 

He merely nodded, giving his signature smile, “That woman could be useful.”

 

* * *

 

The doctor was knelt by Renee’s side. She was still tied up, still shivering from the cold and the pain in her knee, which was now amplified as her adrenaline wore away.

 

The doctor looked sympathetic to some extent, he was concerned about how her knee would heal and about the pain she was going through. So in order to dull the pain, had pumped some morphine into an IV that he stuck in her arm. She began the feel the drug work almost immediately, making it feel like she had no legs at all.

 

“You should just tell him” Renee looked over at him, eyes half open now. She shook her head slowly, her head now floppy and tired.

 

The doctor could only shrug, so he pulled the IV from her and placed a plaster on top, letting the blood soak up into the fabric. Two men walked in behind the doctor, undoing the tied on Renee in order to move her. They were not gentle with her and mostly just moved her body around as if she were not even a person. Renee looked up at a woman who somewhat resembled her. Brown hair, except hers was much lighter, quite tall and fairly slim. She had dark brown eyes and wore dark jeans and a long sleeves beige shirt, absolutely spotless.

 

The woman looked empathetically at the tied woman and gently shook her head.

 

“What did he do” she asked quietly to the doctor.

 

“Not sure you wanna know” he responded before packing his things and leaving briskly, wanting nothing to do with the goons who were manhandling Renee.

 

The woman simply stood there, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. She was tapping her foot nervously, wanting them to just get on with it. The men grabbed Renee by her forearms and pulled her up, but with her legs numb, she tumbled right to the floor again. But they simply pulled her up again, dragging her body with her hurt leg dragging even further behind. The woman waked in front of them leading them for a place to put the woman that the leader had tortured.

 

And she was dragged, for what seemed like forever. Their hands gripping her skin tightly, unforgivingly. And when they came to a tiled room that seemed like it had been modified into a communal shower, they flopped the woman on the floor and simply left, faces straight and uncaring. Renee used all her strength to keep her body up above the floor as they threw her, but her arms shook and the pain was evident on her face. She tried so hard to keep her wounded knee from hitting the cold, hard tiles below.

 

The woman in front of her just dragged a stool over to the corner of the room where a shower was laying. Then she had perhaps remembered her presence and jogged over to her, going to help her up. But Renee looked at her fiercely, so much so that the woman recoiled slightly, as if thinking Renee actually had wanted her help.

 

With twice as much struggle, Renee lifted herself up, putting all her weight on her good leg and limped over to the stool. Sitting on it as soon as she could, letting her wounded leg fall off to the side. The other woman shrugged and rolled up her sleeves,

 

“Take off your clothes” the lady said. Renee said nothing and looked up at her, furrowing her eyebrows.

 

“No”

 

She sighed, “You can keep your underwear on if you want, I’m just here to take care of you”

 

Renee shook her head to herself, _It’s not the nudity I’m worried about_ , she thought.

 

Reluctantly, she pulled her clothes off. She stayed true to herself, knowing that it was really not the nudity she would find awkward, so she decided to take off the underwear as well. The lady grabbed the clothes she had taken off and threw them in a nearby bin, presumably to be cleaned. But before she did, inspected the state of the shirt and threw it in a different bin instead.

 

“My name’s Julie. Don’t worry I’m not like him”

 

“Not worried” Renee said suddenly. Julie merely sighed, picking up the sponge and a warm bowl of water.

 

“I’ll do your back but you need to wash yourself after” she said, bringing the warm sponge to her back. Renee almost let out a content sigh at the contact, feeling calmer already. Julie watched as trails of small red fragments fell from her body. Old blood. Blood that had been caked on her for days. Not only that, but as the blood and grime wiped away, it became clearer to Julie that the woman in front of her had lived through a lot.

 

Deep scars littered her back, older ones and newer ones alike. And the striking contrast of her skin against the light pigment where skin colour was nowhere to be found, it made Julie’s heart ache. That’s what Thomas had said, that empathy was the strongest of her weaknesses.

 

Ever since Thomas and she were young, he had always been the smartest, the tallest, and the most popular. Julie never had a chance. Julie had always been smaller, less outgoing than her boisterous younger brother. Despite being the younger sibling, Thomas made up for it with his wit. He’d always have his way with the women in his life, as well as his professional. He would time himself to finish a surgery faster than other surgeons could.

 

In every way, he challenged what life threw at him and often won.

 

So in a way, he was perfect post-apocalyptic leader material. Which was terrifying.

 


	24. Chapter 24

She knew it was morning when his goons walked in, zip ties in hand ready to bind her. The night she’d had was awful. She’d been put in a cold, damp room that seemed to be a basement. Possibly an old room for storage. The walls were concrete with large craters in them where they had been damaged. Moss or mould winded around the larger parts that were still together, making the room smell like wet grass.

 

She hardly slept. As the morphine wore off, the pain in her leg got worse and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. But every now and then she found herself closing her eyes and thinking about what Daryl must be doing, hoping with her every fibre that he was alive. She would find him, she promised herself she would.

 

One of the men grabbed her forearm and dragged her up to her feet and almost immediately sat her down in a metal chair positioned within the room. He pulled her arms forcefully behind her back and tied them both together in between the metal bars. And in he came, cock of the walk. Looking smug at the woman confined to the chair, the knife he always kept seated in his belt, where his thumb was resting, ready. He wore a button down shirt, looking ironed and polished with dark jeans and black boots. He looked like a leader, miles above the others in terms of presentation. Wanting to be treated like a King.

 

“Good Morning” he said. But again, Renee gave him nothing.

 

“Get out” he said to the two men. There was no sigh of annoyance of backhanded comment. Their faces were stoic, unmoving, as if they had been brainwashed. And as they left, door firmly closed, it plunged the room into a darkness, with just enough light from the bulb above them to make the room a muddy, orange colour.

 

It seemed like forever. But for a while, he simply looked at Renee, regarding her again. As if fascinated.

 

“Where are my manners, I never told you my name” he said, an underlying tone of malice underneath the otherwise neutral sentence, “My name is Thomas”

 

“And your name is?”

 

Renee knew what his game was and it was not original in the least. She simply leaned back in her seat and looked at him, not humouring him in the slightest. But he was still smiling, something that in this stage was starting to get on her nerves.

 

“Doesn’t matter I suppose. I don’t need your name to do the things I want to do” he said, his feet dragging along the floor to circle around her like a predator.

 

“You might know a few of the things I want to do” he said quietly, his fingers hovering over the surface of Renee’s skin on her arms. His touch just coming to contact with her arms hairs, making them stand on end. She jerked her hands, her reaction immediately going to move away. But as she did so, realised that she couldn’t escape anywhere. Almost spurring him on, he placed his whole hand around her arm, tightly.

 

“You might not…” she could feel his fingers dig into her, “…but that doesn’t matter either. I will do whatever I like…with you” his fingers came to her chest, slowly as if he were enjoying every second. Then Renee stiffened up as his fingers wrapped around her neck, not tightly at first, but firm.

 

“I could fuck you…could kill you. I bet you know all about that though don’t you” he said, fully standing behind Renee now, his other hand gripping her shoulder. Relishing in the feeling of being in complete control over her.

 

“This new world…it isn’t kind to women like you. Women like you are stripped of their pride and put on display for us all to see…” he leaned over slightly and whispered, “…but I don’t think I would mind seeing that”

 

Renee felt her breath quicken at the connotations of his words, he knew exactly what he meant. So had she. And she daren’t remember what kind of pride-stripping things she had been through. Too many to count on one hand.

 

“I could just imagine…all my men, taking turns on your gorgeous body”

 

“And then…I’d wrap a rope around your beautiful neck…and make it snap…”

 

His hand tightened around her throat, making her breath collect in her stomach. She gasped, trying hard to get the air through his grip, but he wouldn’t let her. And he knew just how long to leave it before she would eventually give in. His fingernails dug into her skin, almost being able to hear the stretching sound of her skin as he squeezed as hard as he could. The smile long gone from his face and instead, living and enjoying what he perceived as an intimate moment.

 

He was staring in front of him, looking at nothing. She became afraid that he would never let go, but as he did, Renee took a big breath, coughing as the air finally ran down her damaged throat.

 

“But I won’t do that. Not to you”

 

Renee hung her head, no longer wanting to see him and she could feel that he was still vulturing her.

 

“I could…and that is something you must remember” he grabbed her hair at the front of her head and pushed it back against the metal chair, her skull making a dense, painful sound against it.

 

“Is that I will do it…if you don’t do what I want” he hissed, almost angry at her now. But Renee smiled up at him, red marks still around her neck, inflamed.

 

“And what is that…” she said to him, not really a question so much as an order.

 

Thomas chuckled quietly, his fingers letting go of her hair and instead grasping it, as if the intimacy had returned to him again.

 

“I want you to kill” he said it like a curse.

 

Renee smiled again, tauntingly. Questioning authority was not something he was so used to.

 

“How about…” she whispered, her breath returning to her lungs fully again, “…I kill you…”

 

Thomas, at first, was speechless. He looked angry, pissed off, all of the above. But he pulled his hand from her head, she still had a smirk on her face. She knew she had pushed it, pushed all of his buttons, but he had to know. Not every woman was his.

 

“You’ll regret that” he said emotionless.

 

The men came back in and released her from the chair, still tied with the plastic cuffs. She eyed him all the way as she was led away, he followed shortly behind. Outside, Renee could finally see the disarray that he had formed for himself. Every woman looked miserable, a few had dirty clothes but many of them had clean crisp clothing, as if he wanted to display his wealth in quality of life.

 

Her eyes squinted with the blinding light. It was hot outside, humid and Renee could hardly describe the smell that was evident in the air. The smell of misery.

 

The men pulled her back to stop in her tracks, a twang of pain in her knee making her twitch. Thomas waited in front, hands wrapping around the metals bars of a big cage, where he seemed to keep his most precious prizes. He smiled at her, as he unlocked the gate leading into the cage. Renee saw a huddle of men in the middle, all recoiling against the dead ones that were held back only slightly on chains.

 

Renee made eye contact with one of the men, who was previously looking down at the ground, as if he had given up the fight long ago. His look was no empathetic, nor particularly sad. He was angry. He was revengeful. Renee gave him no look of empathy either, ungiving what she did not receive.

 

“These men have been here months, just like this, since the rains of spring, through the heat and cold nights” he said, pleasure dripping from every word.

 

Thomas stepped forward, his hand gripped around the side of her neck, making her look at him.

 

“I said I wanted to make an example of you. How you succeed depends on that”

 

Renee gave him nothing, only her icy gaze.

 

“I want you to fight them. Kill them. If you even can”

 

Thomas let go of her, the men still holding her back. He went to look at the men tied up before him, admiring his own work. They looked fairly thin, probably malnourished Renee thought. The men behind her began to cut her zip ties, freeing her hands finally.

 

“You will not have a weapon. If you want one, find your own”

 

Thomas leaned over two men, undoing their chains and theirs only. As Renee expected, it was the man who looked the most dangerous to start with. Thomas went to leave, stopping as he passed her.

 

“Don’t die. I like you. Wouldn’t want them to mess up your pretty face”

 

And then he left. Locking the metal gate behind her, Renee finally realised the difficult situation she had been placed in. He wanted her to kill two men, considerably heavier than herself, with nothing. She looked up, the bigger man had risen to his feet immediately, as if he were itching to get started.

 

He was a good 6 inches taller than Renee was and she even considered herself tall for a woman. He started towards her slowly, eyes always on hers and she instinctively backed herself up.

 

“You know how many of you I’ve killed” he said. She was surprised he said anything at all, didn’t seem the type.

 

“I killed a lot” his voice was deep and Southern, “But with you, I think I’m gonna take my time”

 

“Leave ya pretty face for last”

 

Renee felt the fence meet her back, trying not to show her emotions on her face too much. Her eyes scanned the clearing for a weapon, anything. He’d said she’d have to find her own, maybe he was trying to say that there was something she could use. Her eyes fell on the chains that held the dead ones back and weighed her options killing him with a chain. Probably not, he was a large man.

 

Her eyes caught a rod, stuck inside another dead one. That could work, she thought. If she pushed it hard enough, it could kill him. But as he neared closer and closer to her, her confidence began to waver. She felt the familiar creep of fear at the back of her neck, the doubt. He reached into his back pocket and pulled from it a large metal tool, like a spanner, but much bigger, heavier.

 

At a speed that she was not expecting, he swung the metal tool across his body and hit Renee in the rib, she had raised her hands in innate protection, then one hand cradled her bruised skin in pain. He placed his booted foot on the side of her knee, stepping on it so that she would fall to the ground. Renee felt the hot, searing anger under her skin and she looked up at the man. Same expression, same unwavering mercy.

 

As she looked up at him with her defiant gaze, with the brute of his force, he clenched his fist and punched her around the face, the smallest amount of blood splattering across her cheek. This was when the man started to smile, feeling confident in his actions. He knelt down and positioned himself on top of her, grabbing her face to look at him.

 

“This is too fuckin’ easy, ya know that?” he said. There was absolutely no denying that a majority of the men she had happened across in the last few days showed their attraction to her in the form of violence. Probably the only way they knew how.

 

He raised the tool to hit her again in the face, but halfway Renee had caught it barely between her fingers breathless. The hit to her ribs having knocked the air out of her. But the man insisted, pushing down more. But with two hands now, she relented and pushed it back up, letting her knee become free to hit him in the groin. She placed her foot against his chest, taking advantage of his sensitive moment to grab the tool, she struck him across the forehead, pushing him away with her leg when he was stunned.

 

He fell backwards, one hand coming to his now bleeding gash on his forehead. He smiled a wide, toothy smile as Renee climbed to her feet, wiping the blood from her cheek with the back of her hand. From behind, an arm wrapped around her neck, a tight hand around her throat. And she saw another hand, this time with a sharpened kind of metal, perhaps from a can. The man behind her slammed the knife into the space between her shoulder and her neck, shallow, but painful. And she could not even scream out with the tight hold her had on her windpipe.

 

He kept the knife in there for some time before snapping it out from her skin, bleeding out immediately. The man forced her to her knees, the large man took his time to rise to his feet. Waltzing over to Renee, he punched her around the face again, this time with meaning and more force than before. Her face met the floor again, her bloody wound making the mud wet. She only saw his feet as his steel toed boots kicked her in the stomach, any air left in her gone at this point.

 

She groaned, nails clawing at the earth below her. Her eyes caught the metal rod that she’d noted earlier, but how would she get there, she asked herself. She felt her right arm begin to go numb as more blood poured out of it, using her left arm to try and stop the flow of it all, she tried to stand up. Her look to the man in front of her was the same.

 

The man stepped up beside her and kicked her in the side, catching her hip bone, the sound even made Thomas flinch as he watched from the stands. He did it again…and again…until she was lying on her back staring up at the sky. Grey clouds had overcast the sky that used to be there and he smallest, finest bits of rain began to fall. Sliding across the mud, her body only felt weaker. She could barely move her limbs as she saw the man in the distance come towards her. She hadn’t quite expected how far he had kicked her, she knew she was smaller than him, but she never expected strength like that.

 

She looked up and there it was, a dead thing. Reaching out for her with its bony hands, rancid skin hanging from every inch of its body. And then, she saw the rod sticking out of it. Adrenaline rushing through her, she reached up and pulled herself to her feet, groans of pain loud and oppressive. Her hands wrapped around the long metal rod and pulled as hard as her could, the sounds of skin coming away she was now ignorant to.

 

The man was in no rush to get to her, knowing how much stronger he was than her, his confidence as well as his ego was significantly enlarged. Renee held the rod in her hand, no blood on the end of it, only what remained of the dead thing. Once the man was close enough, she swung the rod with all her strength to hit him, but he easily caught it. With the rod in his hand, pushing her to the ground, his hand wrapping around her small neck easily. She began to choke, lose all her air. But her eyes stayed open, looking at his smiling face, as if this were the last image of her he wanted to see.

 

Renee yanked her knee up to kick him between the legs again. And while he was cowered over in pain, holding his precious balls in his hands, Renee managed to skim around him, rod in hand pointing upwards. And as he turned around, face now red with murderous anger, she thrust the metal rod through hit throat.

 

His eyes went wide and his hand came clutching his throat as what seemed like pints of blood poured out all over Renee’s arms, clothes and chest. It was warm…with each pump of his heart came a new burst of blood all over her. Grimacing below him at his blood, she forced the metal further into his neck until it poked at the skin of his nape, but not quite breaking through. His face fell and his eyes still stared at the woman below him, but Renee had known that he was finally dead.

 

She stood from the spot, the rod etched into the ground, holding his body upright. She looked down at herself, seeing all the blood soaking into her clothes, her skin…even her hair. She looked at the man before her, still standing and she unexpectedly felt the surge of power she had never expected. Even though her body hurt and she was wounded, she felt the power surge through her.

 

She turned around to see the other man who had stabbed her, looking terrified at her, as though he expected the same treatment. The guards that escorted her in, escorted him out, with the notion that he would not stay alive for very long. Renee looked over at Thomas, he had glazed over eyes, arms crossed and a confident stance. He was aroused by her new found power, aroused by the blood that covered her body, aroused at her inability to even care about the life she just took.

 

“Get her cleaned and patched up. I’ll need her”

 


	25. Chapter 25

_I have no feeling.  
  
Nothing at all. Not even pain.  
  
The only feeling I have anymore is when he praises me, when he grabs my arm to pull me along. I feel warm when I am around him. He has the same eyes I used to know once, that used to make me happy.  
  
But that doesn’t matter anymore. The past. _ __  
  
I kill for him, but he says I must kill them in the most brutal way only. That is what Thomas wants. He revels in the sight of me covered in blood, especially across my face; he says I look the most beautiful like that.  
  
I killed a man today. His blood was all over me.   
  
Thomas came up to me afterwards and said that I had not performed well. As punishment, he sent me back to my cell covered in the blood. I screamed  and hit my hands against the wall until my own hands were bloody, I couldn’t tell which blood was mine or not.  
  
I felt like the walls were closing in, painfully slowly. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t escape. My mind is not my own anymore. I’ve become his when I don’t want to be.  
  
When he came in to see me the next day, he placed his hand on my cheek and he knew that I had lost my mind and complete control of my own being. He smiled and kissed my forehead, then left, not granting me a wash.  
  
I looked at the stone walls, the swirling mould that had been woven between the stones. It was like they formed screaming faces, pained expressions strangled by the patterns of the vines. Their eyes bulging out of their heads, the skin on their necks stretched to the point of breaking and bleeding. Dripping down the walls and collecting in the grooves on the hard floor.  
  
I saw my own face. I saw myself in the pattern in the vines and I couldn’t save myself. The vine around my neck squeezed tighter. And I scratched at my own neck, feeling the strain on my breathing.  
  
I collapsed onto the cold ground, the tight hand around my neck never faltered and I felt my airways pulse with need.  
  
I knew at that moment I would die here.

 

* * *

 

I felt strangely calm.

As I gripped the worn away handle of my machete, staring at the gleaming blade, catching my reflection every now and then. I almost didn’t recognise myself. There were dark, blue circles under my eyes more noticeable from my skin colour, even that had changed. Somehow I had become more translucent and I could see the veins under my skin, with an indescribable urge to place the blade upon them.

I looked up and saw my opponent standing on the other side of the cage, he had many more weapons than me all tucked into his leather belt strapped around his slightly obese stomach. I let my arm swing to my side and twisted the machete in my hand, feeling the soft texture against my aching palms.

I looked back to Thomas who had his arms crossed on the other side of the fence, he smiled at me and I felt the same pang. He didn’t scare me anymore, I actually grew to enjoy his company. He nodded softly and I turned back to the man, his eyes burning into my body as if his one goal in this horrid world was to end my life.

Thomas thought it would be better for me to enter the cage with the clothes I had worn many times before, so therefore I had not changed my clothes or had the warmth of a shower in a few weeks. The blood was crusted on my face as well as the dirt. He even made me fight in the rain, which just resulted in getting me more dirty and more punishments.

My black jeans were caked in filth and I only wore a short sleeved top, also once a dark colour but had marinated in blood and mud for that long.

The world around me was silent as the man ran towards me. I could hear my breathing but that was about it, but my vision was blurry until the man’s body came into focus in front of me. Effortlessly and with Thomas’ pleasure I strolled towards the man who had foolishly taken a swing at my with his first weapon, I quickly avoided the sharp blade and tripped him up.

As he writhed on the ground for a moment, attempting to figure out what had just happened. I circled around him, a thoughtless, stoic gaze painted all over my face. I gripped my machete a little harder as he rose to his feet; I blew a stand of hair out of my face.

“I’m gonna end you, dirty little bitch!” he shouted, obviously getting frustrated already.

He ran at me once again but I was still ready for what he would pull. He pulled out his other weapon, a longer pipe, so that he could try from a further distance. But as I anticipated this it was easily dodged, I plunged my weapon into his stomach and ripped upwards. He gagged a little and fell to his knees, holding onto his wound hoping it would magically close back up. I circled him again until I caught Thomas’ eyes, he was clearly impressed as I saw the corner of his lip curve into a smirk.

He nodded quicker this time, his eyes trailing up and down my body, focussing almost entirely on the shape of my breasts through my thin shirt, the moistness making the shirt stick closer to my body. I thought about the things that Thomas would have liked to do to me, but I already knew he enjoys watching me kill other men in particular. He had made me fight and kill women as well, but he said himself he didn’t get the kick that he usually does. He liked watching me kill the big, dangerous men because I was delicate, frail almost. It gave him indescribable pleasure to watch my kill men.

I stood in front of the man who had blood dripping from his mouth and I knelt in front of him before slashing the sharp blade across his throat. In his eyes was nothing but fear, fear of the things he had seen and for a moment I wondered what he was so afraid of. It was the end of his suffering. The blood from his throat had coated my shoulders and a bit of my neck. I stood to see Thomas full on smiling as he watched the blood run down my arms and my cleavage, as he watched me I watched the bulge grow in his trousers.

He wanted me, but not for reasons he would admit.

I returned to his side and he lifted my head up by my chin to look into his eyes, the blue icy eyes reminding me of a past that I had purposely abandoned. I didn’t want to think of Daryl, I didn’t want to see him or even attempt to find him. I wanted Thomas to keep looking at me the way he was right now.

“Good job” he rewarded.

His hand drifted from my face to my neck, drawing a pale line in the fresh blood. But my body grew warm as his gaze drifted to the valley between my breasts, he gently cupped my left breast and squeezed slightly, hissing as his arousal grew more so. I realised I wanted more of that.

He bit his lip as he smiled, turning to Julie, unashamed.

“Take her to the showers, she did well today” his hand slid to my waist but my eyes were not on his this time. He squeezed my side so tight I thought it would pierce me.

When he left, I followed Julie quietly. Once we were alone I quickly shed my sticky clothes as she was running some hot water into a bath. She turned around, observing my body and looking at the places where the fresh and the old blood was, she looked like she was going to cry.

“You can get in” she said and I slowly stepped in, the warm water immediately soothing my aching body.

She washed me in silence but I knew she wanted to say more to me. She was hesitant though.

I had still not spoken directly to Thomas, I hadn’t used my voice since that night of torture. He didn’t know my name. And he’d made me fight his best men for months, is what he said. How had I been here months? I felt like I could stay forever. Thomas had big plans for me though, he wanted me as his soldier, the main front line. The one who could kill with no remorse.

Julie quickly dressed me, as if she wanted me out of her sight. As I returned to my cell I quickly sat down and wrote in my diary, I knew Thomas read them, but I didn’t mind.

I wrote that he was everything I had left. I was nothing but Thomas’.

I wanted him to do things to me that I had secretly always wanted, to hurt me, to torture me. I wanted him to want me.

 

* * *

 

Thomas removed his clothes in his room, his sister following shortly after.

“How was she” he asked flatly,

“Fine, nothing out of the usual” Julie replied, undressing on the other side of the room.

“Did you read the entry last night?” he asked, Julie rolled her eyes, her diaries were never something she liked discussing, it felt wrong.

“ _I want Thomas to touch me, I want him to hurt me and fuck me at the same moment. Maybe this is all too much too ask, but I just want him”_ he quoted her diaries as he laughed, “She fucking wants me”

“Thomas” Julie scolded, he shrugged,

“What? Can you blame her, watching her fuck up men like that makes my dick hard” he climbed in to bed, his arms behind his head. Julie turned giving him a scowl,

“I just don’t see why you have to make her do that”

“Are you kidding? She’s been here what…three months? She’s killed so many of my best men! She’s a fucking machine…a pyscho!”

Julie turned off the light leaving both of them in darkness. She climbed into bed with Thomas only in her vest and underwear, leaving a space between the both of them.

“Aw what’s wrong, Julie? Ya getting jealous?” he teased, smirking at her. She sighed,

“Why do you still make us sleep together, Thomas it’s just…”

“We’ve always done it, since we were kids. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now?” he mocked. Julie knew she had no argument, their parents both died when they were very young and being twins anyway, they were always very close. Sometimes too close. Their relationship was not a normal one.

“Just get to sleep” Julie said, Thomas chuckled as he laid down to get some rest.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t shake the feeling of her heavy body. Every step he took was another tonne on his arms as he carried Beth’s body out the hospital, her blood gingerly dripping down his arm. He struggled to hold back his tears as Maggie tumbled to the ground, seeing her ragdoll sister dead after the promise of seeing her bright eyes again.

Daryl placed her on the ground, looking at her body and seeing her eyes were open. He slowly closed them, thankful that at least Beth would never become one of  _them._ His vision blurred around the edges as he kept his tears on the brink of falling; Beth was the only hope that Daryl had. She knew how to talk some sense into his head, give him a glimmer of hope that everything would at least be ok. But now that that same person was lying dead on the ground, shot every chance of any feeling that Daryl had left.

After everything he’d been through, thinking that everyone else had died but never coming across Renée, he’d lost every ounce of hope.

He’d yet to ask Rick about the fall of the prison. The day that hung on Rick’s mind ever since.

Eventually, the group marched onwards, without any supplies, all Daryl had was the necklace he’d kept from her, a lighter and a few cigarettes. Walking at the back of the group, he remembered the fall of the prison when Renée disappeared into the smoke, thinking even her silhouette was enchanting. He felt the same pang in his heart. Which reminded him…

“Rick…” he muttered lowly, the sweaty man looked at his dear friend with grief stricken eyes, they all handled Beth’s dead with the deepest of sadness.

“Need to ask ya somethin’” he said,

“Of course” he replied, one hand always on his holster.

“The day the prison fell…the last time I saw Renée was when he killed Hershel…” at the mention of the woman’s name, Rick’s body became rigid, “…Did ya see anythin’?” he asked hopefully.

A tornado was going on in Rick’s head, truth or lie? Truth, I shot your girlfriend by accident and she saw me, collapsed but I still walked away. Lie, I never saw her escape nor die.

Morals were something that Rick was always adamant about, he always thought that in a world like this, it should be the first priority. But to tear apart his closest friend could spell bad news for their relationship.

After carefully thinking about his answer and his friendship with Daryl he replied with his eyes on the ground,

“I didn’t see her”

And once again, Daryl felt the physical energy leave his body and was left not only disappointed, that would be the wrong word to describe what he was feeling. He felt a deep sickening pain in his stomach, deep down, as if cutting open his chest.

He felt as if all his pain was his and his only. And as he held the necklace in his hand, he counted the burn marks on his hands and arms, a reminder of the pain from losing her. He needed to feel…something. He remembered how Renée was understandably afraid of fire and flames and thinking how ironic it was that he was hurting himself with the same element that bought her extreme pain.

In a way, he was feeling her pain.

When he looked back up again, it was night.

“C’mon, let’s rest up” Rick said, Daryl only nodded.

The campfire did little for the atmosphere, there was almost no life to anyone at the moment. They were quite literally the walking dead at this point, dead on the inside that is.

Daryl sat far enough away that he could mutter to himself, twirling the golden necklace around in his fingers.

“You haven’t put that down” he heard a voice say, already knowing it was her.

“Wassup?” he asked, Carol shrugged sitting down next to him. She picked up his other hand and observed the marks,

“I think I should be asking you that” she said, her maternal side kicking in once more. The mother of the group, she knew all the pains of everybody.

“Daryl, I know this is tough for you. I should know more than anyone, but don’t do this” she gestured towards his hands, he only shrugged.

“What’s point anymore” he answered flatly, “Rick said he didn’t see her…that day. I dunno what to think no more”

Carol nodded, understanding his pessimism, “I understand that. But…I think she’s a fighter, that she’s still alive, lookin’” she looked towards him, but his eyes were on the necklace.

“She’s all I had”

 

* * *

 

_His heavy footsteps on the wet floor echoed throughout the dark place. Everywhere was black, there was nothing but a small layer of water on the ground._

_“The fuck…” he muttered under his breath._

_Then he started hearing another set of footsteps, walking slowly. He turned around, but there was nothing, but it was getting louder. But the more he looked around, he saw nothing._

_Until…he saw her. She had her back to him, looking around frantically, her long wavy hair trailing down her back._

_She turned and caught eyes with him. She reached her hand out, placing her palm on the perfectly see through glass that separated them, she ached to at least touch him._

_“Daryl…” her lips whispered, but there was no sound. He smiled, almost laughing at seeing her, he placed his hands over hers on the glass, desperate to feel her warm skin. She smiled at him, seeing those clear blue eyes again._

_“Is it really you…” Daryl whispered, aware that she probably couldn’t hear him._

_Happiness slowly turned into sadness as a shot rang through the silent air, her face changed into that of pain, tears quickly filled her green eyes and blood started to pool at her side. She quickly placed her hand there to stop the bleeding, trying to keep her body up. Then she felt a sharp, quick whip across her back, her clothes shredded all over her and blood replaced where they used to be. She continued to shout something to him, banging her hand on the glass, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying._

_Daryl watched in horror as she fell to the ground, on her knees, one hand still on the glass to be close to him. More whips came swiftly, a pool of red liquid slowly making a circle around her. He started banging on the glass trying to shout to her,_

_“Renée! Renée!” he kept shouting, her face becoming ever more pale. As the seventh and last whip ripped her back she fell to the ground, revealing the crossed incisions on her abdomen that had burst wide open. He saw her chest rise and fall quickly as if in panic, her eyes locked on the ceiling. Blood pouring to the glass divider between them. He continued to bang on the glass, hoping to at least break it and get to her._

_Then, he eyes became clear and she inhaled, but never exhaled. His tears stung on his cheeks and he noticed his knees were wet, looking down the blood had seeped under the glass and into his jeans. Looking up at her recently dead form, he threw up._

* * *

 

His eyes quickly opened to the world.

He saw the stars above him and held the necklace in his hand, against his heart.

He cried silently as he thought about her alive, warm aura. Everything he loved about her.

And Rick listened to his muffled cries with a heavy feeling of pain and guilt like an anvil in his stomach.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Our lives took a pretty dramatic turn from absolutely nothing, to something and everything all at once. We were finally introduced to the Alexandrians and what a pussy little bunch they were. To say our group looked out of place was like shitting in my cornflakes, pretty fuckin’ obvious. They were all too sheltered for my liking and all expectedly boring.

Whilst everyone else got used to the creature comforts that they had followed before shit hit the fan, brushing their teeth, regular showers, clean clothes, jobs even…I wasn’t interested. I twirled my lit cigarette between my dirty fingers and watched the toxic smoke billow into the air around my face; I remember Renée always used to hate it when I smoked.

I’ve been doing that more lately, speaking as if she was no longer here. Like she was dead. That was the impression that Rick had given me; if she had escaped the prison surely we’d have met her along with the others. But there was no impressive heartbreak from inside me; it was both progressive and quiet. I had expected her to be dead the moment she didn’t appear from the prison, so since then I’d become more accepting of the fact that she might be gone.

Carol knew this, but she was more worried about the fact that I had ‘given up’ on the idea of her being alive. And yes, that’s the truth; who could have hope in a world like this.

And it’s exactly the kind of thing that would happen to Renée, her life was so tragic that she would more likely be dead. It’s a small world, but a world where it felt like every bad thing was after her.

I watched the mood shine on the pond in the middle of Alexandria, taking a drag of my cigarette, I thought about the interview the leader had given me earlier.

 

* * *

 

_“What’s your name?” she asked nicely, Daryl fiddled with the books on the bookshelf, noticeably restless._

_“Huh?” he muttered in return, his attention still on the antiques and nick-nacks in her room._

_“Your name” she said again, smiling. He finally turned to her,_

_“Oh uh…Daryl”_

_“Nice to meet you, Daryl”_

_“Yeah, you too I guess” he muttered, helping himself to a seat._

_Her eyes flicked to her notes before her gaze retuned to his, but Daryl was still examining, the hunter inside him looking for something._

_“So Daryl, you got any family?” she asked, he shook his head emitting a quiet ‘nah’._

_“Nobody?” she asked again and she immediately saw his shoulders tighten. For the first real time, he looked at her in the eyes,_

_“Used to” he answered bluntly,_

_“You did? Who were they?”_

_“I ain’t gotta tell ya nothin’”_

_Her eyes looked down, scolding herself for being a little too nosy and upfront, “I apologise, but if I may, I’d like to continue”_

_He shrugged._

_“Who was she” she asked bluntly, his eyes were definitely on hers now, but almost in anger._

_“What chu say?”_

_“It was someone special, wasn’t it”_

_If it was any other instance, he would have lunged at them and probably beat the shit out of them for even the mention. But his head hung low as he uttered, ‘yeah’. The woman named Deanna then turned the camcorder off._

* * *

 

I could hear the damn welcome party from here, I didn’t get it. This ain’t normal life anymore. I could hear the whispered rumours that the native Alexandrians were spreading about us, not to mention their opinions on all of us.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that dream I had, the one where Renée was being tortured until her death. It hit something inside of me, what was she shouting to me? What if she really was alive and I had completely given up on her.

These questions were making my head hurt. And as I stared at the pond in the middle of the town, seeing the moonlight reflected, reminded me of something.

 

* * *

 

“Daryl, wait!” she called out from behind him, he huffed and turned around, seeing Renée tying her shoes.

  
“Will ya hurry up, geez” he joked, pulling a half smile that she loved. She looked up at him, her braided hair falling over her shoulder; she pulled her backpack from the ground over her shoulder as she stood and jogged over to Daryl.

“Shush you” she lightly pushed his shoulder.

“Daryl we’ve been out for hours and seen nothing” Renée moaned, dragging her feet along.

“Y’all British love to complain, huh” he commented, looking out for walkers.

Renée laughed shortly, turning to him, “I’d like to say I’m offended if it weren’t so true”, he chuckled as he bit his lip slightly, making Renée raise her eyebrows in a subtle but aroused way.

“Holy shit, Daryl look!” she said. As he looked, there was a huge, clear lake in front of them. It was huge and incredibly beautiful, probably more so because of the setting sun reflecting off the top of it.

“Did you know this was here?” Renée asked as she made her way down to the bank of the lake. Daryl pulled his crossbow from his back and loaded it,

“Nah, maybe we could hunt for some fish” he muttered as he approached the edge of the bank, his tiptoes dangerously close to the lake’s surface. He pointed his crossbow at the water, his eyes darting for some possible targets.

Renée bit her lip, an idea hatching in her mind. Treading carefully she snuck up behind her lover and quickly, without thinking pushed him into the water. When his body fell into the water, she laughed as a big splash tickled her bare legs.

She didn’t see him resurface from the water, so she stopped laughing and began to panic. She leaned over to see where he might have gone but didn’t see anything.

The world went blurry as she felt two cold hands on her arms, she let out a hurried shriek as she was pulled into the water. She felt the cold water around her but also the arms around her body as she rose to the water, a few coughs later she heard the low chuckle of her lover who had just emerged from the water.

“Daryl!” she splashed at his face, he only smiled and laughed. Suddenly, Renée was very aware that his arms were around her, keeping her afloat. Daryl’s hair was slicked back with the wetness, some of the dirt on his face had rubbed off and she saw his shining blue eyes all the more clearly.

Her hands slowly rested on the side of his face and he studied hers as well, from the droplets hanging on her long eyelashes to the slightly red hue of her cheeks. His hand slowly slid up her back when he realised something,

“Ya not wearin’ nothing under this?” he gestured to her T-shirt, she smiled biting her lip slightly.

“No underwear either…” she whispered, “Laundry day”

A smile graced Daryl’s face as they wandered to a point near the bank where their feet touched the ground. He slid her tight shirt up her torso to reveal her pale, perk breasts, he inhaled sharply as he saw them, immediately feeling the pang of arousal in his lower body.

Renée propped herself up on the bank which was lush with dry, fresh green grass; as she backed up, Daryl followed, pressing his body up from the water she saw how his shirt had stuck to his body. Quickly, she pulled her shirt from over her head as Daryl climbed on top of her, his palm gliding over her breasts, the cold air nipping at every part of exposed skin.

Smiling, Daryl began to unbutton her shorts slowly, making her wait longer. He heard her quick breathing as she anticipated what was going to happen,

“Quick…” she whispered, he laughed through his nose, pulling her shorts down in one go, making Renée gasp. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching Daryl kiss the inside of her thighs, every now and then his blue eyes flicked up to watch hers.

Her eyes slowly closed and her head fell back as she felt the wet, warmth of his mouth on her needing core. One of his hands travelled up her body to her breast making Renée gasp in pleasure, a moan escaping her lips.

“Daryl, please…” she said, his eyes glided up to hers one last time, he planted a kiss on her thigh before rising back to his knees. He peeled the tight shirt off his body and threw it to the side, then unbuckling his belt he leaned down to meet her lips with his. As his lips and tongue moved with hers, he slowly slid into the small woman below him. She moaned into his mouth as he moved with her, his hand on her hip, his thumb imprinting a bruise on her skin.

Scattered moans filled the air as their pleasure took them over, he kissed her neck and sucked on the sensitive skin as he moved within her and when Renée had finally come undone she rested her head on his chest, her head moving with the quickened breathing. They lay there for a while, he twiddled with her braid as her fingers dragged across his skin,

“Ya perfect…” he said, almost as if he said it to himself. Renée looked up smiling, seeing his smile light up his bright blue eyes.

“One could say you’re in love, Mr Dixon” she smiled in return. Standing up and pulling her shorts up, she stared out at the lake in front of them, the moon now shining in the centre. It was like there was a hole in the sky, the day leaked into the night and lit up the lake in front of them. Renée sighed as she saw the beautiful view, pulling on her shirt, she turned back to her lover who was getting dressed also.

“We should get back” he nodded in reply, “Unless you want to go for round two in the woods” his interest peaked when she said this and a mischievous smile graced the woman’s face. “I’ve never had sex against a tree before” she uttered, walking past him. Daryl chuckled as he followed her, like two lovers without a care in the world the night was brimmed with both pleasure and ubiquitous love.

 

* * *

 

I found myself smiling at the memories of her, but the smile faded once I realised I was still here in Alexandria, staring at the moonlit pond which seemed smaller now than that night at the lake.

Renée always managed to make things seem more magical and enchanting than they actually were, maybe because the woman was a mystery herself. The question of her existence was enough to confuse me, but then she began to love me. And I found myself questioning myself more than ever.

If she were alive, what was she thinking? Was she looking for me, what would she say if she’d known I’d given up on her being alive.

I imagine her delving into the darkest depths of her mind, her pessimism was one of the things about her that we shared and I believe that because of that, she’d thrust herself into a persona that other people would think was not like her. But deep down, all the shit that happened, it had some effect on her mind that was irreparable.

Did I even know who Renée really was at this point. I hadn’t seen her in months.

If she was alive, would she be a totally different person.

What’s the fuckin’ use, asking myself questions I might never answer.

 


	27. Chapter 27

Her hands rummaged around his drawers, searching for anything that might be of use. She pulled her hand out to reveal more packets of bullets, which she quickly shoved into her backpack; as well as anything that looked of use, guns, knives anything. Hastily, she zipped up her bag and flung it on her back, her eyes were drawn to the bed in front of her, one side of the bed strangely void of a body despite looking as if someone had just left it.

Her lips curved into a sadistic smile seeing his hands handcuffed and tied with rope, just to be extra careful, to the sides of the bed. His whole body was unable to move, and what was better, nobody was able to hear him. So she just waited, swinging her machete in her hand, kicking her combat boots around the floor. She observed the fresh, clean blade of her machete, for a moment her reflection shone in the metal and she saw herself again, but strong, on the other side of the coin. The last time she saw herself like this, she was exhausted, beaten down, bloody and numb; she was the polar opposite of herself.

She swung the machete down next to her as she heard his groans as he began waking up. She stood at the foot of the bed, her now dark green eyes focussing on the writhing, slow body that was about to awake; a strip of the moonlight shone on the side of her face, making her look more menacing in the aura of blue than she did already.

“ugh…” the man moaned, a drop of blood ran down his face from his wound, she had hit him on the top of the head when he had woken up. “The fuck?…” he questioned, tugging at the handcuffs that were tightened to the point where they were digging into his wrists, but his hands were so dry that there was no chance of him escaping.

He caught a glimpse of the shadow at the end of his bed, with the brightly shining weapon beside her, for a moment he didn’t recognise her, thinking it was Julie.

“Julie?…” he murmured, the shadow didn’t speak and instead stepped further into the moonlight, showing her face to the man. Her expression was stoic and void of any feeling for the man,

“It’s you…” he smiled and chuckled lowly, “Didn’t know you were into this kind of thing…” he commented, jingling his handcuffs around.

She rolled her eyes and inspected the room, there were drawers everywhere and she rifled through some of them in search of anything she could take away with her. She pulled out her journal she had written in every night, the pages were well-thumbed and some parts were marked but a good ¾ of the book were all written in. A further indication of how long she’d been here.

“Enjoy your little read?” she asked, his eyebrows immediately raised. They were the first words except ‘fuck you’ that she’d ever said to him, not only that, the accent. He smiled, feeling his arousal grow quickly. She went to the last entry that had been marked,

“ _I have devoted my whole body to him and to only him I shall reward with it. My body is his and his only, I know he would like to do torturous things to it. But I knew in my core that I would let him, I am his”_ her eyes flickered back up to Thomas’, he was smirking again. She dropped the book on the floor carelessly, as if getting rid of evidence.

“Still the case, sweetheart?” he asked cockily, she responded by twirling her machete around in her hands, seeing him noticeably shift for a moment in fear.

“You’re pathetic” she said to him, he seemed almost offended at what she had said,

“You fuckin—”

“Fucking your sister was a nice touch to the whole sexual predator thing you’ve got going on”, now he looked afraid, if his secret got out to his people, he would never live it down.

She leaned against one of the drawers, her eyes never leaving his, knowing she had the most power she ever could have had. Looking around, she spotted a box of matches and picked them up,

“Mind if I take these” it wasn’t a question and she knew it, stuffing them immediately into her back pocket. Thomas suddenly struggled violently against the handcuffs and chains that bound him to the bed, in an annoyed shout he forced,

“Where the fuck’s Julie?!”

She only shrugged, not really caring.

 

* * *

 

Renée looked towards the locked door to her cell, a small window allowing her to peek through. She pulled all her hair to one side, the largeness of her hair now allowing her to hide certain things in the thicker locks underneath.

Pulling out a clip she had swiped from Julie earlier she bent it so it was straight and slid it into the lock of the cell door, making sure to make no noise. Nobody ever guarded this door directly, that was the one floor that Thomas’ compound had; the only guards were the ones stationed at 10 different points at the perimeter. Nobody to guard her or the people that lived here, who were sleeping.

Pressing her ear to the cold door, she gently pushed the clip around, finding the spot that would grant her the freedom she’d planned for.

All of the journals, how she’d acted, you see, was a huge hoax. But it wasn’t as clean cut as Renée had hoped it would have been; she had been writing the journals, acting and doing the things she was to trick him into thinking he had her, so much so at some point she almost began to believe it herself. All the episodes she’d had bashing around the cell, was all the act that Thomas had wanted to see, the wild horse that he had tried to break,  **he** thought was completely broken.

She heard the click of the lock and pulled the heavy, black door open; the moonlight blinded her for a moment as she treaded lightly. She inspected every corner, no guards yet. Even though there was a sigh of relief seeing there were no people, she knew at some point she’d have to take on someone with no weapons.  But then again, it wouldn’t be the first ‘person’ she’d killed. A flash of the governor’s face skipped through her mind and she immediately felt the same hatred she had for Thomas, despite the fact he had not touched her in the way the governor had, she knew he wanted to.

She walked slowly through the halls of this dark place she had been imprisoned, catching sight of the outside, she could see the barbed wire cage she’d been forced to kill people within. The dirt that surrounded that area was stained a dark red colour, it’d never looked like normal dirt again. In a way, it represented the way Renée was now; before she came here she had merely killed two people out of cold blood, but now her body had been tainted with the inescapable fact she’d killed hundreds of men and women and even in her current mind-set, she had enjoyed it. But they were all bad people, she had tried to tell herself, she imagined her knife slicing their throats and the hot, slick blood seeping out of their wounds. Seeing the light leave their eyes was something she believed she’d become addicted to, he had indeed changed her, but only in the fact that it was easier to kill with no remorse and quicker too.

She was going to show Thomas how dangerous he’d made her.

She froze in her steps when a guard’s quiet footsteps were heard coming down the hall next to her, she backed herself up against the wall, listening to see if he would come close enough. To her annoyance, his footsteps were coming closer, meaning she’d have to kill him somehow without a weapon.

As he turned the corner, he couldn’t react quick enough before he was thrown to the ground and straddled by Renée. She squeezed her thighs together to stop him from moving so much and tightened her palms around his neck; his eyes widened as the air began to leave his lungs, his bigger hands coming up to try and pry hers from his neck. Her hands were so small they could barely squeeze fully around his neck, and as he tried to shout and kick, she squeezed harder.

His eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head as he became limp on the ground; Renée relaxed her hands as he died before her. For a moment, she felt the horrid feeling in her stomach after seeing somebody die before her. But it turned into a feeling she couldn’t quite describe herself, satisfaction mixed with a sick sense of pleasure.

She pulled out all his weapons, a knife, a gun with a whole round in it and a few extra smaller knives. They would have to do for now, she thought. Before she left the scene however, she remembered to stab the dead man through the head. She shoved them into her bottoms and carried on throughout the halls, slightly relieved now having some sort of weapon.

Taking care of the rest of the guards was easy work for Renée, five of them were chatting with one another on the grounds outside; once they departed however they were all left with slit throats and stab wounds in their heads. She wiped the blood from the knifes on her black jeans, there were only four guards left to kill and they were probably protecting Thomas’ room. Renée looked down at herself, she was covered in blood and smelled vile; she decided that before trying to take on the others, she’d need to wash herself up first.

She dragged the bodies of the guards to her cell and closed the door, just in case the others would see their bodies. She pushed the last man’s heavy body inside and closed the door firmly shut she backtracked to where Julie usually took her for a bath; but as she opened the door to the communal bathrooms, she heard crying, a familiar voice.

Peeking round the corner, she saw a woman with only a nightdress on, her knees against her chest, crying. She recognised the light brown hair as Julie’s, Renée walked out into the area, knowing Julie wouldn’t be brave enough to have any sort of weapon, never mind pull the weapon on her.

Julie’s head slowly rose from her knees and she wiped the tears away, her head slowly turned to see Renée with a gun pointed her way. Julie only smiled sadly, turning her whole body to face the woman.

“I knew it…” she said quietly, pulling her fingers across her under eyes to get rid of any leftover moistness from the tears, “I knew you hadn’t broken…”

Renée furrowed her brows, “Then why didn’t you tell him” Julie averted her gaze, shrugging her shoulders,

“We have one thing in common…” she said, looking into her eyes again, “…we both hate Thomas”

Renée lowered her weapon, seeing the broken woman in front of her, it was easy for a violated woman to spot another and Julie was one of them. But it was more tragic when Renée realised that Thomas was the one hurting her,

“Maybe we have more than one thing in common…” Julie smiled again sadly,

“Maybe” she replied.

She laughed a little, “I always knew you’d be the one to escape. The journals, how you were acting, it was perfect and Thomas is eating it all up…”

There was a silence between the two women until Julie found the courage to say something, “Before you leave…can you do me a favour?” she asked. Renée waited for what she had to say, but already knew what.

“Kill me”

“That’s not my call”

“Yes and it’s mine and I’m saying I want to die” Julie was adamant about this, Renée didn’t think she could be adamant about anything. For some reason though, because Julie had been through something similar to her, she was having trouble justifying killing her. Julie looked desperate at this point though, but either way Renée felt sorry for her.

“Just make sure…you kill him, please…” she begged, she nodded in return.

“It’ll be painful and slow, don’t worry”

Julie held out her hand to Renée and for a moment they shook hands, Julie was smiling as wide as Renée had ever seen her and for a moment she smiled as well. She’d finally be happy as long as she was away from Thomas,

“Good luck” Julie said. Quickly, in an effort to not distract Julie, she pushed the gun on the side of her head and shot her; she saw a slow blink as the final form of life in her body until blood spurted from the other side of her head. Julie fell to the floor with a slight smile on her face, her eyes ever so slightly open and blood pouring from her head.

Renée tried not to think about it too much, it’s what she wanted after all. She quickly shed her clothes and washed every inch of her body; even though she got baths every now and then from Julie, the woman now dead on the floor, but she’d never had a thorough clean in all the time she had been here.

  
She was suddenly very aware of all the scars that Thomas had given her when she’d first arrived. The long one that ran up her forearm was the one she noticed straight away and she balled up her fists in rage at the thought of him getting off to the pain.

Once she was washed, she found the spare women’s clothes that were always kept nearby and threw them on, a black tank top and dark jeans was all she had to wear but she’d found some combat boots as well. She flicked her long, wet hair over her clothes and sighed, feeling truly clean for the first time in a while, despite the water being cold. Her almost black hair dried quickly as she got ready; as she went to leave she found that Julie had hung up her khaki coloured jacket before she’d come in. Looking back at the body on the floor, she decided to wrap the jacket around her shoulders, she buckled the holster she’d taken from the guards as well as all the weapons she’d taken from them. If anyone had her machete…it was Thomas.

Confidently, she strolled down the halls, looking for the kitchen. It wasn’t necessarily hard to find where it was, almost too easy, she thought to herself. Once she saw the kitchen, she grimaced slightly, there were pigs hanging from chains on the ceiling, probably for tomorrow’s dinner, something she would only usually see the leftovers of. The floor was slippery with the blood from the recently killed animals; she weaved through them, her eyes stuck on the ceiling of the kitchens.

  
Finally, she found what she was looking for, a vent, leading up to the bedrooms above. Upon her escape, she found that the whole place was a sort of apartment complex, or maybe a Youth Hostel before the shit hit the fan. If she was going to escape and kill Thomas, she couldn’t risk anyone seeing her leave or messing up her plan.

She pulled up one of the stools and popped the vent, as she thought, they were wide enough for her to stick something in there. The next step was to find anything like pest repellent, some form of toxin; she swung the door to what she anticipated was a storage cupboard and to her pleasure discovered cans of petrol as well as something that smelled absolutely foul, probably something to power the generator. She picked up every can of the toxic liquid she could find and stacked them on the inside of the vent, knowing that the poisonous gas would rise through each room of the sleeping residents.

She shoved the last can into the vent and pushed them right to the very end so that there was no way she would be harmed, just to be safe. The best part about this plan was that it was a silent killer, pesticide, bug repellent and oil burned off enough deadly gas to suffocate those people in their sleep and it burned upwards; giving Renée plenty of time to have fun with Thomas on the other side of the building. She grabbed a lighter from one of the kitchen drawers and stuck it in her jeans, pouring some of the petrol all over the cans first and then dragging it all over the kitchen floor for good measure.

She looked at her plan from the kitchen door and nodded, flicking the lid of the lighter, she saw the little, dancing flame before her; if it were a year ago, she’d be terrified of having it in her hand. But at this moment, she felt a great deal of power flow through her, as if the fire was igniting her insides. She picked up the leftover petrol she was going to use later and threw the lighter on the trail on the ground, slowly making its way up to the vents. There was something liberating inside her to watch the trail of deadly fire, but before it became too ablaze she closed the heavy door and bolted it; as if she had never entered.

 

* * *

 

Thomas was clearly agitated now at the realisation that Julie was nowhere to be seen, Renée rolled her eyes as he thrashed about, his wrists tugging at the metal around his limbs.

“I shot her” she smiled, looking directly into his eyes. She saw an expression that Thomas had never pulled in her presence, vulnerable but very angry.

“You little bitch…” he spat at her, Renée placed a hand on her hip, knowing exactly what he was about to do.

“Help! Shoot this bitch! Help!” he shouted, but she was still smiling.

“You didn’t think I’d come all this way without a plan did you?” she asked, twirling the blade in her hands, “Your guards aren’t very quick-witted are they”

“What the fuck have you done…” he asked, only concerned for his own safety.

“Well if you want the details, the air vents are pumping out lethal gas into their bedrooms, they’ll be dying shortly”

Thomas didn’t seem surprised at this statement, instead he smiled, “See what I’ve done to you…” he almost laughed, clutching at whatever chance at life he had left, “I made you into exactly what I wanted and you don’t even see it”

Renée ignored him, but in a way he was right. Instead of answering she picked up the can of petrol she’d retrieved from the kitchen and walked eerily right up to Thomas, the look in her eyes, emotionless.

Slowly, she poured the petrol into his mouth, the foul smelling liquid splashing all over his face and down his throat; she dragged the can all the way down his body, watching as is sunk into the sheets of his bed, his clothes and sitting on his skin. She flicked some of the oil all over the room and dropped it in the middle of the room, it continued to pour out and created a puddle that sat in front of her. Her eyes travelled up to Thomas’ and he looked terrified, anyone would have thought he pissed himself at how afraid her looked.

Renée grabbed the matches she had found earlier and took one out,

“Wait!” he eyes slowly met his, he was heaving with fear.

“Please…” he begged, “I promise, I-I promise I won’t follow you! I’ll let you escape!”

Renée furrowed her eyebrows, almost laughing with her eyes and expression, “You’ll  **let** me escape?” she still held the match in her hands, the end of it touching the box. He was sweating as he nodded, his eyes wide.

“That’s funny” she said, smiling slightly.

She struck the match against the box and held it in front of her for a split second, feeling the burning sensation at her fingertips, but strangely calm, as if the pain was somehow soothing. She flicked the lit match towards the bed, engulfing the sheets first in complete flames; the world around her went silent as she dropped the box of matches and they landed on the ground, every sense was heightened.

She watched as the flames danced towards Thomas’ body and she watched his terrified face as they nipped at his skin, his mouth was wide with his screams but there was little sound to Renée, all she heard were the muffled ones. It was as if her ears refused to truly hear him; numb to the feeling of death her face showed it all. The months of torture showed on her through the complete lack of emotion on her face, but her lack of fear showed as the fear grew evernearer to her feet, but she hardly flinched.

Watching his face for the last time, the smell of burned flesh penetrating the air, she turned around and heard his voice call for her; but she had still not yet and would never give him her name, she recalled as she heard him shout for her, the handcuffs around his wrists and legs still jingling.

One foot in front of the other slowly, she left him screaming on the bed, her hair gently swayed with the wind from outside Thomas’ door. The line of petrol she had made ignited slowly behind her, the flames nipping at her ankles like the excited footsteps of little children; but there was no fear in her step, the heat from the tall fire behind her warmed her back.

Renée saw her younger self, lying in a blaze in the middle of the room, the same smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. The young girl’s eyes were staring at the ceiling watching the nearing flames in her peripheral, at the same time the darkness swept in and took her body with the fire. As if she were one with the element itself. The fear resided deep inside her.

Again, her younger self, but an adolescent filled her memories. Sixteen years old, hiding out at someone’s messy, dirty house and running from the adopted household she hated. Abandoned her school and her clean life she used the same element to light the drug that sat in a spoon in her hand, the dark circles under her eyes indicating just how long she had been going through the cycle. She had injected the poisonous liquid into her arm and felt the warm flow through her body immediately, her mind swirled into a confusing whirl of ecstasy. Not long afterwards, she sat in a prison cell, crying into her hands in regret. She walked free the next day and never touched another poisonous thing, including the element that had ruined her.

Now, she owned that fear as it crept up behind her in an attempt to frighten her. It’s stark yellow beams of heat almost dancing on her skin.

As she turned, she saw to the end of the hallway to Thomas’ room, the whole thing was completely ablaze, but she still heard his screams as loudly. The smoke slowly rose into the black sky as well as the flames; her eyes looked on numbly, no emotion spread across her face. She felt completely different, as if something was accomplished but at the same time…it was a terrifying accomplishment. Truly invisible, is how she felt.

Maybe minutes had passed, hours perhaps; but she watched the flames inhabit the building high into the sky and lighting the night, the heat surrounded her body and she closed her eyes, feeling it warm her skin and bones. His screams were gone and the fire had reached the residential areas, spitting liquid fire from the vents; the people were already dead.

She turned her back, mentally escaping what torture she had endured at this place.

But never really escaping the new person she had become.


	28. Chapter 28

My legs felt so heavy. There were dead leaves on the ground that I was trying to drag my feet through and there was a small flicker of light where the sun was trying to peek over the horizon and it blinded me for a moment. But most of all there were trees.

Miles and miles of fucking trees.

  
Frankly, I underestimated how big the USA really is and with that, I also underestimated how many fucking trees there were.

It was beginning to get annoying how often I saw the same scene hour after hour, I needed some kind of change in atmosphere. But here? In the middle of nowhere, I doubted my aspirations.

I hadn’t let myself feel anything in months and merely feeling the gentle heat of the sun felt amazing; not only that, but I allowed myself to think about Daryl again, which might have been a huge mistake on my part. Because as I was walking in the middle of the night, I thought of all the memories I had with him; I broke down crying, hands on knees trying to keep my body up from completely collapsing.

The fire attracted walkers and in my emotionally driven rage I bludgeoned them, expelling my emotions through killing them.

I could still see Thomas writhing around in his burning form and it pleased me to the core to watch him die, to walk away, to have that much power. It was invigorating honestly. It made me feel different in a way I can’t find a way to explain.

I hated to hear myself even think it but I enjoyed killing them, every time. When the light left their eyes, staring at me, I felt a new kind of power surge inside me.

I remembered the first time I killed someone. It was when I shot my rapist in the head. Or was it the head…I didn’t remember I was so afraid. I look at the Renée then with mercy, she didn’t know what she was doing.

Being brutally raped and beaten for almost a year puts you in a certain mind-set and I was dark minded when I escaped, but I wasn’t how I am now. Now, I could kill anyone. Back then I felt afraid, scared to my core; now I didn’t want to let anything scare me.

People have preconceived notions of what women who have been violated look and seem like; meek, vulnerable…maybe even incapable. I wasn’t going to be that woman. I killed my rapists, both of them and I killed the man who wanted to, as well as the people who followed him.

But all I wanted now, was to find Daryl.

God, what would he think of me.

I heard faint, dragging footsteps in front of me and looked up to a pretty dreadful looking walker, staggering about with the bottom jaw on his face completely missing. I unsheathed my machete and calmly walked up to it, shoving the blade through its head effortlessly as its body was already deteriorating.

I flicked the blood off my blade, groaning at the disgustingness of its corpse.

“Well…well…”

My head didn’t look up, only my eyes flicked up a little and all I saw were their boots from far away. I could tell there were quite a few of them trying to encircle me; I finally looked up to who I assumed had spoken. He was tall, bald and had wide shoulders and he was holding a much larger blade than mine. My eyes burned into his as he smiled at me, it couldn’t mean good things for me to be trapped with his men.

“Look what we have here…” he said to his men and they all laughed lowly, staring at me. But I only had my eyes on their leader. He had a deep southern accent, it made me think of Daryl’s accent a little, but his was laced with a gruff. Maybe he put in on to sound more intimidating, I don’t know.

“Whassa lady like you doing out here, sweetheart?” he asked trying to sound as nice as his voice could sound. I squinted my eyes when ‘sweetheart’ came out his mouth, only certain men called women sweethearts and they’re not the kind you want to be associated with. The fact that this group was entirely men made me suspect it as well.

He saw my expression and laughed, “Whassa matter, sweetness? Got yer panties in a bunch? Need some thick…long…relief?” he asked, stepping forward only a few steps. I chuckled through my nose, thinking he probably had a puny little guy if he was saying things like this. I sheathed my machete and stared back at him, not speaking a word.

He looked at his friends, “Whatcha say, boys?..” he paused and more men swamped to my sides in an attempt to box me in. Even though I thought what I thought earlier, my fists were sweating in a mild kind of fear; that would always be the case in situations like this, “…I say we take turns fuckin’ her li’l body til she bleeds”

I grimaced and closed my eyes, trying to not let what he was saying become an imagine in my mind. When would I escape men like this…did they just gather in groups for more muscle. But then I was aware his friends were closing me in from the front and the sides. I regarded them all, inspecting their weapons. No guns. All they had were knives and melee weapons, one had a crossbow.

He caught me looking around and laughed loudly this time, sending a small chill up my spine, “Nervous baby?” he smiled, I observed the fact that none of them were in the best of shape, “…I’m gunna fuck you so hard. I ain’t fucked no lady like you in a while”. I could see him imagine what he was going to do to me behind his eyes, the cogs turning in his mind.

_And you never will,_ I thought to myself.

I ran, oh god, I fucking ran.

I could hear him shout “Shit, fucking get her!” and he ordered a chase. If I needed to be worried about anything it was the guy with the crossbow, that was a distance weapon and could do some serious damage. I weaved through the trees, looking back every so often to see how far they were and for a moment I was relatively okay and only saw the small running men that were far away.

I felt a whizz past my head and noticed it was an arrow so I ran faster; the guy who had the crossbow was a bit skinnier than the others so he was mostly likely able to keep up with me. I was looking behind me, seeing if they’d lost me and for a moment I lost myself because when I looked back in front of me I stopped in my steps. My heart jumped into my stomach at the adrenaline.

Below my very toes was the steepest drop I had ever seen, as if that weren’t enough I heard the quick footsteps of multiple men making their way to me, shouting. I swallowed nervously, thinking, I’m gonna die. But this drop wasn’t just any drop, it was a waterfall with a wide river at the bottom, with scattered and sharp looking rocks waiting.

If I jump, I don’t know if I’ll live.

I didn’t have much time to think about it when the leader stopped mere metres away from me. I swung my backpack off my shoulder and held it in my hand, ready.

He laughed at my attempt to escape, “Where now, sweetheart?”

_Sweetheart…_

I stared at him, hate evident in my eyes. I pulled the jacket off my shoulders and the men around him smiled, thinking I was about to give up; he didn’t think I would jump. He bit his tongue, watching my bare shoulders peek out from my tank top and the shadow of my cleavage slightly revealed as it had been pulled down.

“Getting ready for me, huh?” he asked, smiling in that horrible way Thomas  _used_ to. I pushed the jacket into my bag and threw it into the water below, it bobbed on the surface of the water before drifting with the river’s current.

I looked back at the man, he was still smiling, as if he thought I’d given up. My heel teetered off the edge as I prepared to jump and suddenly his eyes widened, seeing what I was about to do.

“NO! Stop her!” he shouted, but his men were only just breaking into a run when I jumped off the edge. I didn’t scream, I just felt the swift, cold air run past me as I fell; it then occurred to me I had severely misjudged my haphazard jump. I had fallen right into a place where there were rocks hidden under the shallow water. I closed my eyes and braced myself.

When I collided with the water, my first thought was, cold. But as my head collided with a rock, I flooded into darkness, was I dead? Her body drifted with the current of the river.

The men watched from the top of the drop, the leader watched as Renée’s body slowly floated away, a small trail of blood left her head and her eyes were closed.

He sucked his teeth in annoyance and walked away.

Renée’s body drifted almost lifelessly with the water, her limbs completely suspended around her. It wasn’t completely obvious her if heart was beating or not.

 

* * *

 

_Renée laid on his chest, the tips of her fingers dancing around his skin, she smiled. He was so still she half thought he had fallen asleep, but when she looked up, he was merely looking at the ceiling of the cell, lost somewhere._

_“Still with me?” she asked, his eyes flicked down as if not hearing her the first time._

_“Hm?”_

_She raised her eyebrows and smiled, he smiled back and placed his hand on her bare shoulder,rubbing her soft skin, almost making her sleepy but relaxed._

_“Yeah, just thinkin’” he replied, she raised her eyebrows, snuggling her body closer to his._

_“Thinking about?…”_

_“It’s stupid, don’t worry ‘bout it”_

_She rolled her eyes, “Daryl if there’s something you want to ask—”_

_“I’m just curious is all”_

_“About?”_

_He paused for a moment and her eyes met with his again, “What were ya before…” he gestured around the room, “…all this?”_

_Renée laughed through her nose, getting all hung up about something so small and innocent. She sat up smiling and slowly threw her tank top over her head over her bare breast, she pulled all her hair to one side and Daryl’s hand drifted to her back, smoothing over her skin._

_“You’re gonna laugh” she said, smiling over at him. He raised his eyebrows, questioningly._

_“Go on then…”_

_She bit her lip a little, slightly embarrassed._

_“I was a teacher” she said, her eyes met his. Unexpectedly, Daryl had burst out laughing and Renée furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of why he had such a large reaction and also, she’d never really seen him laugh like this._

_It was short-lived though as he became a little self conscious and stopped, looking over. Renée laughed too, blowing a strand of hair from her face._

_“I know…I know…unbelievable” she smiled._

_“No it ain’t that, it’s just—”_

_“Don’t justify yourself, I knew what you meant” she pushed him playfully._

_“But yes I was a teacher, I taught a few science classes. Chemistry was the class I really wanted to teach, but I ended up doing all of them”_

_Daryl’s eyebrows raised again, but in a different way. Renée squinted her eyes in suspicion,_

_“What…?” she asked._

_He reached around and pushed her down to the bed, immediately getting on top of her. He held her hands down against the bed softly and she looked mischievously up at him,_

_“Well, Miss Williams…has a nice ring to it” he said, his lips kissing the pale skin of her neck down  towards her chest._

_“Maybe I can teach you a thing or two” she said, biting her lip. Daryl laughed in return and bought his lips to hers._

* * *

 

  _A few days later…_

Aaron and Eric sluggishly trudged through the damp woods, their boots getting caught in muddy swamps frequently along the way. It wasn’t good for Eric to be out anyway with his ankle, but he insisted on joining Aaron whilst the rest of Alexandria were preparing to attack one of Negan’s compounds. Obviously a lot were against it.

 

“What are we doing, Aaron?” he asked the man in front of him, who was also pulling his feet out of the mud every step. He looked briefly back at Eric who didn’t look happy,

“We’re recruiting, remember? It’s that thing we used to do before all this crap with Rick’s group happened” he sassed, smiling. Eric sighed,

“As if we need to recruit anymore”

“We’re looking for people who need help, Eric”

“ _We’re looking for people who need help, Eric”_ he mocked, making Aaron smile, “This is useless and why is it so goddamn swampy here”

“Quit your moaning, it’s a swamp”

“Still gonna complain”

Aaron laughed but his smile dropped as he squinted to see what was ahead. He heard the groans of a walker nearby but saw a body near the edge of a bank below them. The body was not the walker that was making the noise itself, but it was making its way towards the unconscious body. Aaron slid down the muddy bank quickly, a knife in his hand and mud now covering his back; before the walker could get to the body he kicked it down and impaled its head.

Looking back to the body, he eyed it for a moment. It was a woman. And she was obviously not dead because she wasn’t a walker and from what he could tell there was no stab wound to the head. He knelt to its side, unable to see its face because the woman’s hair was covering her face. She had washed up on the bank on her side, half her body submerged in the freezing water.

“Aaron!” Eric called, he hadn’t followed him down the bank, “What’s going on?”

“I found someone!”

With a loud sigh, Eric followed him but instead slipped down the muddy hill, his whole left side now brown. Now he would be even more cranky.

Aaron carefully flicked a bit of hair from her face, her wet hair landed on the ground beside her. Examining her face, she was pale, but definitely not dead because her nose and cheeks were red. He saw a bit of blood that had watered itself across the left side of her face, dripping from a small injury on her head. He inspected it, but it would probably be fine with a bit of TLC.

“We need to take her back, she needs some treatment”

Eric only sighed, helping him pick her body up.

 


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Spinning…the world was spinning.

  
She felt her body being pulled around but didn’t have the strength to open her eyes. The voices…she didn’t recognise them and couldn’t even make out what they were saying, but it was hurried.

They laid her body on the back seat of the car they arrived in, making sure her legs were tucked in before closing the door hurriedly. The engine sprang to life and Eric and Aaron blazed for Alexandria, concerned that the woman in the back seat wouldn’t make it. Her body was cold and the head wound looked serious enough, if the hypothermia didn’t kill her it’d be the blood loss.

 

* * *

 

The gates to Alexandria squeaked open and Rosita was there, her moody face looking on them with little excitement. She placed her hands on her hips as they sped past her, squinting her eyes in suspicion at what their urgency might be. Aaron jumped out the driver’s side and shouted,

“Quick! Get her to the infirmary!” he shouted, gathering the woman’s body in his arms, getting blood all over his shirt in the process. Rosita watched, a woman with almost black hair lay like a ragdoll in Aaron’s arms and he looked around frantically as he ran towards the infirmary. Aaron ran as fast as he could with the woman in his arms, she wasn’t heavy but it’s not like he could really go for it.

Once he was in the infirmary, Olivia was there, she often ran it when Denise was murdered. When he ran in with a bloody body in his arms, she stood and motioned for him to set her down on one of the beds. He laid her down, now seeing how wet she really was, her clothes stuck to her still cold body; he leaned his ear down to her mouth and heard a subtle, quiet breath.

“She’s still breathing, we need to stick an IV in her, she’s not eaten in a while she’s so thin” he said, running to the other end of the room for a bad and needles. Olivia brushed her wet hair from the woman’s face and inspected her wound, she immediately dabbed some cloth into warm water and cleaned the old, crusted blood from it.

Aaron hurriedly rolled up the woman’s arm, motioning for Olivia to hold her forearm so he could find her vein. A blue veined popped out from under her pale skin and he carefully slid the needle in there, receiving no reaction from the woman she was obviously out cold. He hung the bag up beside the bed, watching at the vitamins flowed into her body while Olivia applied some alcohol to a cloth and slid it over the cut. Upon further inspection it didn’t really need a bandage, the bleeding stopped since the alcohol was applied. It should have stung like a bitch, but the woman still laid still.

“Got any blankets?” Aaron asked, Olivia nodded pointing to the cupboard. He immediately rushed and covered her body in the thick blankets, in an attempt to keep some of her body heat in to warm her up.

“Where’d you find her?” Olivia asked, watching the woman’s pale face.

“Out by a river, we were just walking around” he replied, “Dunno who she is”

“Well, guess you can’t just go in her wallet and see anymore huh” she joked. He nodded but remembered her backpack he’d picked up. He slipped it off his bag and set it on the table zipping it open, he grabbed a jacket first, dry. Then she had a machete, still in its case, he could tell that she took very good care of it. There were a few minor things, bullets, few knives, guns and at the bottom of the bag…a small ring. He didn’t want to intrude and so he packed everything back where it was and set it down beside her bed.

She obviously wasn’t going to wake up any time soon so he drew a curtain and walked away with Olivia, bumping into someone’s shoulder on the way out.

“Rick, oh sorry ‘bout that”

“Ain’t no problem, Rosita told me something happened” he said nonchalantly, his hand always on his holster. There was a bit of sweat on his brow, as if he was just in the middle of doing something.

“Oh yeah. Me and Eric were out earlier and found someone, she’s just hooked up to an IV at the moment. Probably won’t wake up for a while” he replied, Rick simply nodded and patted Aaron’s shoulder,

“Good work” he commented as he walked past him, he wondered who the hell they picked up. As he approached the bed, he gripped the curtain and pulled it aside; inside was a woman, wrapped in blankets but one arm was laid to her side with a needle in it. He studied her face for a moment, stepping closer and closer to her; and for a second his mind was blank.

As he neared closer, he saw more angles of her face and as if he had seen a ghost, the blood rushed from his face to his ever-faster beating heart. He thought his heart had migrated to his stomach from the horrible feeling he was having, but he swallowed harshly and stepped back almost. He saw her veiny eyelids and how pale she looked, but more than anything he noticed how incredibly dead she appeared; but it was evident she was due to her now rising and falling chest.

He didn’t really believe himself when he saw her, perhaps she was just a woman that looked like her. There was really only one way for him to find out and it would shape the lies and the truths he had told, forever.

He looked around for a second before approaching her as if she would explode before him, he peeled back the blankets and stared at her blank tank top, unsure. His hands were shaking with the anticipation, but he already knew the answer deep down. He carefully pulled her tank top up from her stomach, revealing exactly what Rick was hoping not to see.

The scar that remained from the bullet wound…back at the prison.

His mouth hung wide, fate had come to bite him in the ass again. Maybe it was karma. That he lied to his friend.

Since that day, Rick had mentioned that she might have been dead…and Daryl had believed him wholeheartedly; it seemed it was what he needed, to move on. To forget the idea of her.

And here she was.

 

_Renée._

She was right here, alive, breathing.

For a good minute, Rick had his hand tightened around his gun in his holster. He wondered if he should kill her, make sure Daryl never sees her again; he wondered if he should get rid of her.

He slapped these thoughts out of his mind and loosened his grip on his gun, his chest heaving at the thought of it. He couldn’t let Daryl find out…he couldn’t.

As he thought this however…her body moved and she groaned in pain. Her eyes still closed, Rick pulled away quickly, drawing the curtain behind him. He stayed behind the curtain for some unknown reason until he heard her voice.

“Ugh….where the fuck am I?”

There was that unforgettable accent, but it still sent a chill down his spine.

He heard her sit up and he looked around to see her body sat upright, looking around, but obviously confused. Her eyes adjusted to the light inside the room, she hadn’t seen so much white in a long time…

She caught a glimpse of a figure standing outside the curtain; she quickly reached for her hidden gun in the back of her jeans but he beat her to it, pointing his at hers. But he had to pull the curtain back to point it right at her, revealing himself. Her eyes immediately widened, but more than anything she felt her blood flow with rage and undeniable hatred. She knew that he wouldn’t shoot her so she slowly pulled out her own gun and pulled the hammer back slowly, her eyes showed how much hate was in her body.

“You” she said. Her gun shaking whilst pointing at him.

“Renée, don’t do anything stupid” he warned, both guns neck and neck with one another. She chuckled a little,

“That’s a bit rich don’t you think?” she asked mockingly, “Where is he”

“Who?” he knew damn well who,

“You know damn well who I’m talking about!” she shouted, “Now where the fuck is he”

Rick didn’t reply he only stepped back. Annoyed and frankly, too angry to function, she shot out of bed and attempted to step out but was held back in pain by the IV in her arm; without even flinching she ripped it out of her arm, storming towards the exit.

“Listen, Renée. You need to stop! We need to talk!”

“Talk? As if I’m gonna waste my time talking to you, fucking asshole” she spat, making her way outside. He widened his eyes and pulled back on her arm,

“Listen, you need to rest up!” he warned, trying to pull her back inside but she pulled away forcefully and pushed him against the chest.

“Fuck you, Rick! Get your fucking hands off me!”

Aaron quickly rushed to their side, looking back and forth. Renée could already feel the blood pouring down her arm from the IV, but it was the least of her worries.

“What the hell’s going on here” Aaron asked, trying to hold Renée back.

“This fucking asshole isn’t who you think he is, that’s fucking what” she spat, pushing her finger in his face. He knew there was nothing to say, as much as he wanted to deny it.

She pulled her shoulder away from Aaron and spun around, “Now get the fuck off me!”

She froze in her steps, Alexandrians were crowded around them, looking at her strangely. Michonne…Maggie…Glenn…they were all staring at her, as if seeing someone who had come back from the dead. They were all here…she was the only one that had been forgotten.

From the back of the crowd she saw him walk out, slowly making his way to the front of the crowd. Her feet were frozen on the spot, specks of blood were falling from her fingertips and she felt the tears well up in her eyes.

His eyes were clear, dry; if anything, he had no feeling. He felt his mind wanting to go to her, but his body held him back. He had almost hoped that she was dead to keep his sane mind at bay, but seeing her standing there, gave him a new sense of confusion.

She cracked a small smile as a tear ran down her cheek, her body becoming weak with emotion.

But she managed, her breath unsteady with sadness, but happiness.

 

“Daryl?”

 

Her footsteps were light, almost non-existent as she stepped towards the wide shouldered man she hadn’t seen in months. Her hand slightly outstretched as if he would disappear at her touch, what a cruel dream that would be. Her palm rested on his chest and she felt the soft fabric of his shirt first, but then his skin underneath; he didn’t flinch when she touched him. But at the same time he felt no need to approach her.

She smiled and looked up at him when she felt his skin on her soft fingertips, a single tear running the same path as her previous. But Daryl just looked confused, convinced by Rick’s words. Not only that, but he felt as if he was looking at a completely different person than what she left like, the things she had done resonated within her personality more than she had thought. She saw this in his eyes, saw the confusion at who she had become. But she was too happy to care.

“Daryl…it’s me” she said, smiling in absolute joy, “…Renée”

The name sent a chill down Daryl’s spine. Tortured and hurting himself for months over the name; he didn’t expect to see his ‘dead’ lover’s face before him. His heart wrenched looking at her tearful face.

“How” is all he said, it almost came out as a sigh more than anything with how quiet it was.

His eyes looked over to Rick, who was internally wishing he’d get sucked into a black hole. He was so sure she’d be dead and had dug himself a hole he might’nt have been able to get out of.

“Rick said…” he was absolutely confused, his face said it all, “…he saw ya die”

She shook her head, “Daryl, I’m here now—”

As if it was the flick of a switch, it suddenly clicked in her head what Daryl had said.  _Rick said he saw me die…_

She turned to Rick, the tears quickly dried into rage, “You lying piece of shit!” she lunged herself at Rick, her fists clenched and ready to fight the man. But not only did Aaron hold her back, but Daryl pulled her away, his hands around her waist. For a moment, she found herself savouring the feeling of his hands on her again. But her mind wandered…

“The fuck ya doin’!” he shouted, she pushed herself out of his arms and pointed to Rick.

“You said that Rick told you I died…” she seethed, “…he’s a fucking liar. He  _shot_ me. He fucking  _wishes_ was dead” she sent daggers with her eyes towards Rick. It wasn’t evident to anyone else but their leader appeared threatened, vulnerable almost.

“Nah…ya lyin’” he said. Renée’s body went cold and her mouth hung open in shock; she felt like collapsing on the floor and bursting into tears at the betrayal of what he said. Deep down she understood perfectly, but in the moment where she wanted a sweet reunion with Daryl, was soured by the lies.

“Are you being serious right now?” she asked, in total seriousness. He shook his head, distancing himself from the woman he had previously desperately wanted to see. But ever since the dream he had of her, he tried to distance himself from the feelings he had; now they all came back at a million miles an hour.

“Ya can’t say shit like that”

“Daryl”

“Stop it”

“Daryl, please just listen to me—”

“I ain’t listenin’ to it!” he shouted in her face. But immediately regretted it once he saw the afraid look in her eyes, but he kept his stern expression and walked away. Renée watched him, her heart aching the more steps he took. Soon enough, she was left with just the man she hated beside her.

“Renée…Listen I—”

He was cut off when her palm slapped him harshly across the face, he looked back, his eyes trailing across the ground. Knowing he deserved it, he felt the burning on one of his cheeks.

She stared at him with teary eyes but didn’t let them fall, she bit her lip before opening her mouth finally.

“ **You** are going to tell him, the truth. Understand?” she ordered. Rick merely nodded, “Hope you’re proud of yourself, Rick”

She walked away in the same direction that Daryl had stormed away, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. She opened the door without knocking to find a woman was about to walk out the door, Rosita glared at her, seemingly believing she was also a liar and bumped her shoulder on her way out, slamming the door behind her. She furrowed her eyebrows,  _the fuck was her problem._

Renée heard the clinking of glasses from the kitchen and headed towards it. Through the beautiful living room she saw Daryl with a bottle of something that looked like whiskey in his hand, drinking it straight. He was titling the bottle towards his mouth and Renée watched as he gulped a lot of it down before noticing Renée walk to the sink.

She refused to meet his eyes as she made her way across the room, fully aware that Daryl was looking at her.

“What ya doin’ here”

Without looking into his eyes she grabbed the tissues that were next to him and took them to the sink, “Don’t flatter yourself, just getting myself cleaned up”

He wished he could tell her to get out, but he didn’t. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he  _couldn’t._ Even her presence when it wasn’t wanted managed to electrify the atmosphere around her.

She washed the now dried blood that had come from her IV down the sink and wiped it down with the tissues. Daryl stared, he hadn’t really let himself take her in since he saw her again. He should be ecstatic to see her, but for some reason, there was no serious need in his mind to comfort her. Maybe he had already dethatched himself. More than anything he felt frustrated, but sexually so, since the last intimate moment they had was months and months previous.

  
“Into brunettes I see” she suddenly said, he furrowed his brows but saw that she was referring to Rosita. He shrugged,

“Nah, it ain’t like that” he muttered, taking another swig from the bottle he placed it down. The thing is, it really wasn’t like that; she’d just come in to ask who she was. As if she was jealous. His mind snapped out of it when Renée grabbed the bottle and took a few gulps of the burning liquid, swirling down her throat he watched as she swallowed.

He felt some strange attraction to Renée at this point, even though he had called her a liar not fifteen minutes ago; but he felt himself wanting more of her as she placed the bottle down and he examined her body. He remembered the way he pulled at her hips when they made love, the way her fingers would delicate draw against his back when he hit that one spot, the way her breath felt against his skin.

“I’m gonna go change” she said, slipping away. He watched her hips sway naturally as she walked away and he felt himself slowly slipping into a sense of arousal, evident from the budge that had formed in his trousers. He followed her up the stairs quietly and found her in the bedroom slipping the dirty shirt she was found in over her head. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching her delicate skin move.

She turned, her eyes finally meeting his. He found himself getting a bit lost in her darker green eyes now, she realised this of course being able to read him like a book. She reserved her attention back to her clothes.  

“You’ve got some nerve haven’t you” she asked rhetorically, he didn’t take any notice of her sarcasm and watched as she slipped her dirty jeans off.

He watched as she bent over to slip her socks off as well, only her black underwear remaining. His eyes flicked over her newly exposed skin and developed a lump in his throat, he swallowed audibly as he struggled to control his arousal. She was about to reach around and unclasp her bra when she realised he was still there, one eyebrow raised.

“You need to go talk to Rick” she said flatly, he nodded slowly and took the invite for him to leave. As he was about to walk through the door, he heard the shower turn on and imagined her body once more, before shutting the door behind him.

 


	30. Chapter Thirty

I found myself staring at the house I was in, almost not believing what I was seeing. There were bed frames, clean sheets, belongings even; the more I walked around the house the more there was to it. It was like I’d gone back in time. I hesitantly walked through the quiet hallways, my bare feet creaking against the wooden floorboards, but I smiled, it sounded like a home.

I gingerly pushed the door open at the end of the hallway and discovered a white, tiled bathroom. Honestly, it hadn’t been  _that_ long since I showered, but it didn’t really count seeing as I’d been pushed onto the bank of a river and was still covered in the caked dirt. I sighed as I turned the metal handle of the shower and saw the steamy water stream out of the head, I could have cried honestly.

I turned around and caught my reflection in the mirror and I almost recoiled. I had wrapped a small dressing gown around my body and I looked at the way it wrapped around my bony shoulders down my even skinnier arms, I seemed to had even lost some of the fullness to my face and noted how my cheekbones stuck out a bit. I raised my hand to touch my chest, almost expecting my reflection to not imitate my moves. I sort of hoped I didn’t really look like I did. I felt my bones on my lower neck stick out a bit more than they should.

Then my face, my hair had been tied up in a messy bun but I could already see how much dirt there was in it; it looked so greasy it almost looked wet. I pulled the stiff hair tie from my head and let me hair fall and I was shocked, it had grown so much it was almost at my waist. My body looked so frail I’m surprised I wasn’t dead already.

Maybe I should have been.

 

* * *

 

Rick had sort of expected Daryl to come straight to his house after that little…something. But something he wasn’t expecting was for Daryl to be on his side still, even after what Renée had said. It made Rick’s heart sink, realising that the truth would hurt him even more with Renée’s return. He’d sacrificed a heartfelt reunion to defend his friend.

Michonne was just as angry/confused, he hadn’t even told her the truth yet.

When Daryl pulled the front door open he was surprised to see everyone in Rick’s front room. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Carol, Carl and little Judith were all cramped onto the sofas. It just occurred to Daryl that just as much as he did, everyone else needed answers as well.

“Hey Daryl” Maggie said but didn’t smile like she usually did. He nodded and directed his attention to Rick, who looked terrified.

“I know why you’re all here…and I respect that all of ya are confused” he looked around at everybody and occasionally at the ground.

“Was she lyin’?” Carol asked, arms crossed on her chest, one eyebrow raised.

Rick swallowed audibly, clearly afraid, “I know…it’s been a few months since the fall of the prison and in truth I thought Renée was gone…dead”

Daryl shivered at the thought of it, remembering the dream he had. He remembered he shouting something, but he still couldn’t make out what it was. Even now. It’s not like he could ask her.

“What Renée said back there…was not entirely…a lie”

Everyone was silent and the atmosphere in the room could have easily been sliced, he looked around at everyone nervously. Their eyes were either wide staring at him, or staring at the ground, unable to look at him.

“She was uh…fighting the Governor…and I shot at him, but I hit her instead”

Daryl felt pit of dread in his stomach and reached up to run his hand through his hair, pulling at the strands slightly to inflict a little pain. His mind was running at a million miles an hour, thinking of all the times he’d been convinced she was gone…it was all just a cover…for what he’d really done. He felt the wave of guilt and anger drown him and his other clenched fist began to shake and suddenly, he remembered the look in Renée’s eyes when he’d accused her and felt awful. Like he was going to be sick.

“I shot her…and she saw me. I just walked away, it was too dangerous to go for her…and I’d seen her pass out so I just—”

“So you just left her there” Carol finished, shaking her head slightly.

Rick looked down at the floor in shame, “I am sorry…” he said, sounding genuine enough really, but not enough.

“After all this time…” Daryl began, but he couldn’t find the words to finish it, “…I trusted ya, Rick” he replied sharply and exited just as sharply, not wanting to hear any excuses or cause a scene. He had to get back to her, apologise and just hope that she’d forgive him.

 

* * *

 

At first she didn’t quite hear the knocks on the bathroom door until she snapped out of it. There were light knocks and it cracked open slightly, she pulled her gown over her chest hurriedly,

“Yeah? Who is it?” she asked, folding her arms to keep the cloth there.

“It’s me…” she recognised the rough voice as her lover and looked away. Reliving the humiliation from earlier. She sighed softly,

“What do you want, Daryl” he heard the soft anger in her voice and he hated it.

“I, uh…talked to Rick”

She was silent.

“He told me everything and, uh…” her features softened a bit as she realised how nervous he was and how sorry he actually sounded, “…I’m really sorry”

She thought about it for a moment and turned, “Come in”

He slowly opened the door and saw her in the short dressing gown that came to the top of her thighs, his eyes went there first before looking up to her eyes and he was almost caught speechless. Her there in front of him, it felt like he was unable to go near her and he could only watch her from afar. He examined her skin and how dirty it looked still.

“Ya didn’t shower?” he asked, she nodded and looked down, she appeared a bit awkward in front of him now,

“No, no I…lost track of time”

 

There was an awkward silence between the two before she spoke up again, “What you did was…really hurtful, Daryl” she looked as if she was going to cry because she wouldn’t look at him in the eye.

He felt another wave of guilt wash over him and when she looked up at him again only to see he had completely bowed his head, as if he didn’t want her to see him completely unravel.

She gave in and walked up to him slowly, her body was right next to his and she raised both hands to his face to make him look at her. She wiped a few tears from underneath his eyes and looked straight into his blue ones; until now, she didn’t really let herself take him in. She missed his bright blue eyes and his hair was longer, her thumb remained on his cheek and slowly rubbed against it. She smiled as she felt his warmth on her body.

Slowly but without a hint of hesitation she pressed her lips to his, at first he was surprised by it and wasn’t sure how to react, but as her lips moved with his he closed his eyes and gave all the emotion he had in his body to her. She moved against his lips and also his body, her barely clothed form pressed up against him and his hands lingered in the air for a moment before landing on her shoulder, slipping the dressing gown off one of her shoulders and onto her arm. Her bare chest was slightly revealed and her nipples hardened with arousal at his mere touch.

Their actions became quicker and breathier at the neediness of their kissing, every time they adjusted a moan left her lips quietly. Eventually, he pushed the dressing gown so much that it fell to the floor and left her body completely uncovered for him to see. She pulled away from his lips and her hands unbuckled his belt slowly, she knew she was being too slow, she could feel it. Daryl helped by pulling his shirt off his body, his shoulder muscles rippling as he did so and at the motion Renée took in more of his body.

When Daryl was as naked as she was, they just stood there in each other’s arms. One as vulnerable as the other, as naked and as unguarded. Daryl raised one hand from her shoulder to her jaw and softly kissed her one more time before realising the shower was still on.

“Need a shower?” she asked, smiling. He didn’t need to reply as she turned around and stepped through the glass doors, giving Daryl a sight of her back that, to be honest, he had missed. He gave her a slight smile as he followed her, closing the door behind him. He turned his attention back to her and cradled her face in his hands, kissing her with need, pushing her body towards the tiled walls in the process. She smiled against his lips as her back met the cold tiles, her hands went up to his now wet hair and pushed the hair back, giving her a better look at his face. His hands travelled to her hips, resting there before embracing her body against his and she placed one of her hands on his chest to steady her balance.

After a moment, he came away from her lips and rested his forehead in hers. Her eyes looked up at him but he had his eyes closed, his palms gliding over her now wet skin, he watched as the water droplets ran down her body, her stomach, her breasts. She examined his face, knowing exactly what he wanted to do, but in good Daryl fashion wouldn’t initiate it.

She trailed her hand from his chest down to his lower body, her eyes locked on his as they flicked up from her body to make eye contact with her. She slid her palm over his erection and he moaned out, closing his eyes at her touch as she started pumping him quicker.  He felt as if he would just finish by her doing that and she knew this, she saw it in his face and bit her lip.

Once she let go of him for one second, he pinned her up against the wall once more and lifted leg up to rest on his hip, she gasped as her balance was altered slightly, but grabbed one of his shoulders to avoid slipping. He kissed her roughly at the same time sliding himself inside her, she moaned against his lips, urging him to carry on. He started slowly, but at the realisation he wasn’t hurting her he sped up his pace, his fingers digging into her arm and leaving red marks. She grabbed his shoulders tightly in pleasure as his lips travelled to her neck, leaving bright red marks all over her skin.

She felt the tightening feeling in her abdomen as she rode out her high, but he kept his pace, trying to achieve his as well. The feeling of him still moving inside her made her orgasm last longer and she felt the buzz until Daryl came as well; his head rested on her shoulder, his member still of her and she felt her chest rising and falling quickly. She smiled, feeling his body hold her against him, she felt his heart beating fast.

He finally leaned up to look at her face, in his eyes was a mixture of a dulled pleasure and happiness as a small smile graced his lips. Renée smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, a breathless ‘I love you’ escaped her mouth. But there was no warm feeling in Daryl’s stomach, he just replied with the same.

“We best get ya cleaned up for tonight” he said reaching for some shower gel, she smiled as his hands started spreading the wonderful smelling suds around her body. She sighed in delight, doing the same to him. He found himself frowning at the new scars scattered across her body, the bruises that were left behind and a new look to her eyes. She’d changed…of course he wasn’t going to ask her now. But what happened to her…

Where was the old Renée.

 


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

I brushed my hair one last time before finally setting the hairbrush on the side, next to the mirror and I looked at myself. I didn’t bother to put makeup on, I hadn’t worn it in so long it would feel weird to have it on now. And I passed on the dress that the people here recommended I wear, I ignored them really, they acted as if the end of the world never even happened. I just wore a pair of dark jeans and a grey long sleeved shirt, it was getting progressively colder where we were, so much so the night began to feel nippy.

Daryl had already set out before me, but I saw something in his eyes before he left. It was like he was still somewhat suspicious of me, but not for those reasons I had thought.

There was no doubt in that I had changed, in almost every way. I always had my guard up, I wasn’t as trusting of my friends as I was before the fall but most of all I think Daryl saw something inside me, he knew something had happened. If it wasn’t evident enough by the newest scars I had, it was now at my reaction to Daryl thinking I’d changed.

I sighed and left the house, for a split second I thought I’d need to lock the door, but I was burdened by the realisation it wasn’t like that anymore. I trudged my feet towards where the music was coming from, it looks like a town hall or something like that, or the nicest house ever. I slowly pushed open a door that looked like it had a lot of people in it and peered inside, immediately my lungs pulsated with nervousness. There were a lot of people, most of them new faces, and I didn’t like any of them one bit.

I walked around a bit and found Daryl talking to Maggie in the corner of the room, but I didn’t realise how long I was staring until they both looked over at me. Daryl’s hair was still pushed back slightly from his hair drying like that naturally, but when I saw the look in his eyes I felt my heart wince a little. It wasn’t the loving one he’d given me in the shower earlier, it wasn’t the one when he was apologising to me. It was the kind of look where it feels like you’ve inconvenienced them purely based on how they look at you. So I turned away quickly and caught sight of the alcohol, I poured some liquor into a cup and drank half of the cup immediately before filling it up all the way now.

“Hey there” I looked up and saw a tall guy with a light pink shirt on, her was smiling in  _that_ way, I merely raised my eyebrows and gave a sarcastic smile before sipping my drink, walking away. But as I imagined he would, he followed me,

“Hey, wait! What’s your name? I’m Spencer” he placed his hand on my shoulder, I shrugged it off and didn’t reply to him, drinking more of the liquor I felt the burning liquid run down my throat and it instantly made me feel better, but it made my mind spin a little, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Not friendly enough?” he asked jokingly, I froze in my steps at the word.

_Sweetheart…_

* * *

_“Now, now sweetheart, you now the drill don’t you” the middle-aged man said to the small girl cowering in the corner. Her eyes were watery and her cheeks were red, she nodded slowly as she saw her father slip his belt off his waist and bend it together so that the metal buckle was hanging. The little girl turned around and quietly cried as she pulled off her shirt, she felt the first whip of metal across her back, feeling the buckle drag across her skin and pierce the delicate and bruised area. She started to cry, holding onto her arms to give herself some support, but she heard her father’s quiet chuckle as he continued to whip her._

* * *

_“Come on now, sweetheart. Open those pretty legs for me and show us the goods” the man said, one hand on the back of her head, pushing her face down onto the concrete ground. Her tears puddled on the ground as his other hand pushed her legs open, she could hear him laughing. She cried out louder as she felt him violate her,_

_“Shhh, come on now sweetheart…”_

* * *

_“You’re all mine…and the best part is you know it. I could take you right now, but I’ll let ya wait a little longer” Thomas said, his hand on her chin to make her look at him, “Those are the eyes I wanna see when I fuck you for the first time, be ready for me sweetheart”_

* * *

_“Whassa lady like you doing out here, sweetheart?” she grimaced at the nickname. “What’cha say boys? I say we take turns fuckin’ her li’l body til she bleeds”. Even the gruesome sound of his words were enough to make her feel dirty again._

* * *

 

“Hey, don’t get mad at me now sweetheart!” he shouted, clearly a little bit drunk. He placed his hand on my shoulder to get her attention, but instead of shrugging it off I pushed him back and he landed flatly on the ground. Without even a second thought I pulled my knife from my back pocket, forgetting that when I left the house I wouldn’t have needed it. I landed on top of the man and was about to drive the knife into his chest, until I heard Maggie shout ‘stop!’.

I was so lost in my rage, that I hadn’t realised all the Alexandrians were staring at me like some kind of animal. My hands began to shake when I made eye contact with Daryl, he looked…disappointed, afraid and as if that was the exact justification he needed to think I had indeed changed. I felt an immense amount of shame, the last time I felt this much shame was the first and second time I had been raped by different men. I stood off the terrified man below me and looked down at my knife, it was shaking in my hands. I dropped it and it skidded across the ground at my feet.

I wanted to apologise to Daryl, I wanted the Renée he’d left behind.

I felt like I was going to faint if I stayed with Daryl there so instead I rushed out the door I came in, breathing heavily, evident from my rising and falling chest. I sat down at the pond that was situated in the middle of Alexandria and stared at the moon’s reflection in the water, trying my best to hold the tears in. Foolishly, it reminded me of the time when the moon shone against a big lake me and Daryl found before the fall of the prison; how different our experiences had been since then, it had shaped us both. But I think Daryl lost touch with me…might not have wanted me back.

 

* * *

 

Daryl looked over to Maggie, who looked just as shocked as he did. He looked over at her as if confirming his fears, Renée had changed. She wouldn’t have done that beforehand. Maggie merely nodded at Daryl, encouraging him to go and follow her; of course at this point nobody knew that Daryl and Renée were a thing, otherwise Spender wouldn’t have approached her. Speaking of which, he was moaning that she shouldn’t be allowed here and she was a ‘psycho’.

Daryl shook his head, ignoring his moaning and followed where she had disappeared to. It wasn’t hard to find her so he didn’t rush, he caught sight of her resting on some rocks near the pond and took a cigarette from his back pocket, lighting it immediately he blew the smoke from his mouth. He pondered about what to say to her, what even to talk about. He scratched the back of his neck as he sat on the rock beside Renée, but she barely acknowledge his presence.

“Here to interrogate me?” she asked, still staring at the ripples in the pond in front of her.

Daryl blew the smoke from his mouth and placed the cigarette in between his fingers, he regarded her, she had always hated the smell of cigarette smoke and would always move away whenever he was smoking near her. But now, she wasn’t moving, or even bothered it looked like.

“What happened back there” he asked flatly, Renée tensed her body, obviously a little unwilling to answer. She looked over to him and asked,

“Got another one?”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows, but pulled out another cigarette from his front pocket, handing it over to Renée. Seeing her with a cigarette was something he’d never seen before and the experience of seeing that for the first time was extremely weird for him. She placed the cigarette between her lips, which Daryl was staring at and held the lighter out to her, expecting her to slightly recoil at the sight of the flame. But she placed the end of the cigarette onto the flame and for a split second her eyes met his as it was igniting, it had felt like the most intimate thing they’d done since her arrival. He ignored the feeling and watched as she blew the smoke softly out her mouth.

“Thought you hated smokin’”

She blew more smoke out her mouth as she replied, “Yeah well…lot of things have changed since the prison” she said, matter of factly. She let the smoke fill her lungs and instantly felt better, but not necessarily calmer.

“What happened to ya, Renée” he didn’t even really ask, it was as if he just demanded the answer. She swallowed, tasting the smoke for the first time since she was a teenager.

“I don’t think that’s the question you really want to ask” Renée answered, feeling his eyes glaring onto her,

“All I wanna know is what the fuck happened back there and why”

She thought about her answer carefully, holding the cigarette in her slender fingers, she still stared at the water in front of her.

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Daryl” she answered, pushing the end of the cigarette into the rock after she’d finished it.

“We all have” he began, only to have her shake her head,

“No, you don’t understand” she looked over at him, “I looked for you Daryl…and in doing so I put myself in serious danger” she said, as if she was accusing him.

“I killed a lot of people to get back to you, in ways that I never have before” she continued, and he felt a pain in his chest, not his heart, but in his bones.

“And I come back here to see that you’ve moved on, maybe it’d have been easier if I were dead so that you couldn’t accuse me of being a liar”

He sighed, “Renée we’re past that…”

“We? I think you’re past that, you apologise, fuck me and then go bitch about me to everyone? Is that all you wanted really, was a bit of sex to keep you occupied” she said sharply, an angry expression casting on her face.

“Stop talkin’ like that”

She almost laughed at him and stood up, walking straight past him.

“The fuck do you want from me?” he asked, throwing his cigarette to one side, but she ignored him and kept walking.

“Hey!” he shouted pulling back her arm, making her look at him,

“Get the fuck off me Daryl” she warned.

“What do you want, Renée” he shouted again, his voice raised even more than last time,

“I don’t know Daryl, maybe some fucking compassion, some love to let me know that in all the time we were apart you were  _at least_ thinking about me?” she said, “Or maybe I’ve ‘changed’ too much, huh?”

“I do love ya” he said, with no real emotion behind his words,

“You and I both know that’s bullshit. Do you think if you loved me you might have actually had some hope I was alive, some glimmer of happiness knowing I was? Go fuck yourself, Daryl”

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me like that” he warned, pulling her arm back as she tried to escape again. She linked eyes with his furious ones and pushed against his chest,

“Am I making you mad, Daryl?! Well at least you feel something right! How does it feel, huh? Being accused, damn well felt good when you were doing it to me!” she pushed against his chest again, “At least I fucking looked for you, Daryl! At least I cared enough..” she pushed against his chest again, not realising that he had averted his eyes and wasn’t pushing back anymore. His chest rising and falling with anger, he felt his fists clenched, “…at least I cared enough, unlike you, son of a bitch!”

The air was quiet as a loud sound filled the night air, her body landed against the cold grass and she hit her nose on the hard ground. Her hands tried to break her fall, but she only pushed herself up once she had collapsed; after a few seconds the pain finally appeared on her cheek and she raised her hand to it, it felt hot and incredibly sore. She blinked as she saw a drip of blood fall from her face and she wiped her nose with her hand to find it was bleeding; Renée felt the hot tears behind her eyes, quickly falling down her face and she cradled her cheek again in pain.

She looked up to see Daryl, looming tall over her, just as shocked as her at what he’d done. His clenched fist was red and the knuckles were white, his breathing became laboured seeing the blood drip down her face and a red mark appear where he had punched her. Her lips quivered with fear, a feeling of dread that hadn’t filled her body since she’d been abused as a child, her eyes locked on his, afraid of what he might do next. Her arms trembled and the hair on her arms stood up, her body ready to escape.

Daryl was terrified at what he had done and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He’d just hit her…not only that but he’d punched her in the face; but for the few seconds until she looked at him, he barely regretted it. But now he felt the horrid put in his stomach at the realisation.

He held out his hand to her and stepped forward a few steps, “Renée…” he said softly, she shuffled backwards as he approached. The both of them unaware that at all the shouting, everyone had gathered to see Daryl assault her and everyone’s mouth hung open.

“Get away from me…” she answered barely audibly, sending a painful surge through Daryl’s heart, he truly hadn’t meant to do it, but it had just happened. His body moved before his mind did.

“Renée, please…” he asked stepping forward a little. She scrambled to her feet, stepping back more, tears now running down her face.

“Get away from me!” she shouted louder, surprising Daryl in a horrible way. They stared at each other for a moment as she continued crying softly, she looked around and saw all the people and immediately became shameful. Placing her hand to her cheek she looked around and saw Carol on her porch, staring at the situation. She walked hastily away from Daryl, crying harder and harder the further away they became, towards Carol’s house and as she did so, hiding the forming bruise with her hand from all the Alexandrians.

Carol didn’t hesitate in letting Renée into her house and watched as the broken woman set herself on the bottom step of the staircase, knees against her chest and crying. Renée didn’t look at Carol, she just stared at the ground, feeling the same shame she did as a child, and boy did she feel like a child, small and vulnerable.

Carol turned back to Daryl, who’s face was white with regret and fear. One of his hands still clenched and the other softly falling to his side, she shook her head and closed her front door. Daryl felt Rick’s presence at his side.

 


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

My body wouldn’t move apart from my fingertips shaking and the tears my eyes were pushing onto my cheeks. I could see Carol was lingering near the door, looking over at me cry on her steps; but I stared at the door, afraid…he was still stood there and I knew it. I could feel his mere presence in the whole town and a heavy cloud hung over me as I recalled the moment he’d hit me.

More tears slid down my wet cheeks and Carol wrapped her arms around my shoulder, she made me flinch a little as she touched me, I hadn’t seen her come to close. I’d been preoccupied staring at the door, imagining his silhouette in the night, looking straight at me.

 

She pulled me up and sat me at her kitchen counter, plopping me on the seat next to it. She pulled a few tissues from the box and handed them to me, I took them with shaking handing, struggling to keep my voice stable from the crying. I dabbed my eyes, seeing Carol pick something from the freezer. She stood in front of me and gently tipped my head up with her hand under chin, inspecting my already forming bruise on my jaw. She touched it ever so slightly and I winced, it was incredibly painful, especially since it was a bony area like the jaw.

Carol wrapped some of the things she’d retrieved form the freezer in a towel and placed it gently against my bruise; I winced harder this time as the element of cold bought on a new form of pain. I held the ice to my face as Carol took a seat next to me, I didn’t look at her, instead I looked at the floor to avoid it.

“Don’t think I don’t know how you feel” she started, “I saw what he did, we all did. It’s very out of character for him”

“He doesn’t love me anymore”

Carol sighed, “Renée, of course he loves y—”

“No, Carol” I placed the towel on the table, looking over at her I could feel the tears in my eyes, “Do you really think a man who does this…could love me? Did you not see what he said to me when I came here…he didn’t want this” I felt the tears run down again. Carol looked into my eyes with a sympathetic look, she knew I was right. She should know, a man who hits a woman doesn’t love her; she knew it, but she wanted to make me feel better.

She reached over and placed her hand on top of mine, rubbing my skin with her thumb, like a mother I never had, “I’m sorry, honey”

But she didn’t have anything to apologise for.

There was a soft knock at the door and Carol patted my hand before going up to answer it, she pulled the door open slowly, whispering.

“Daryl you can’t be here, you need to go” she whispered, hiding whoever was behind it with her body. Their conversation was barely even audible to me, and frankly I wasn’t bothering myself with it, I was once again, staring into space.

“Is she there?” he asked worriedly, Carol shook her head, her hand pressing against his chest to make the person back away, but he persisted, “I wanna see her”

“Daryl, stop it, you know you can’t do that”

He leaned in and looked inside the room, his eyes widening as he saw me sat at the table, “Renée…” he looked worried and my head quickly shot up to look him in the eyes and I felt my heart beat out of my chest. I slipped off my chair so quickly as he came towards me, slipping past Carol effortlessly, I almost fell off my chair with how much I wanted to get away. I held my hand out, he was too close…

“Renée, baby girl…” he said quietly, coming closer and closer to me despite how frightened I must have looked,

“Go away, Daryl…” I warned, but the tears didn’t make it sound very threatening.

“Renée please…” he begged, only coming closer to me, I stepped back the more he stepped towards me, but eventually resulted in me being cornered. As my back met the wall, he kept coming towards me and I tears started flowing from my eyes, so much so it surprised him and he froze in his tracks. I hadn’t noticed I’d raised my hands to protect myself instinctively.

He stared at me, looking as if he were about to cry himself.

“Daryl, out” Carol ordered, he bit his lip, holding in the tears before turning away and leaving. He didn’t even close the door on the way out and I stood there shaking before falling down the wall and erupting back into tears again. I had genuinely been afraid of him. Carol sat down next to me to console me and to apologise for letting him get so close after what happened, but after all that, I merely asked if I could use her shower.

I locked the bathroom door, making sure nobody would come in. I shed my clothes and stared at myself in the mirror, noting the huge, dark bruise that was already forming on the side of my face; it was even beginning to turn a little blue now and as I touched it, it was very painful. I also caught sight of smeared blood under my nose.

It reminded me of the time Daryl accidentally caused this kind of thing back at the prison.

I shook the memories out of my head, I knew they’d only allow me to drift further and further into my emotions, that was the last thing I needed.

 

* * *

 

Daryl laid back on his bed, as his arm rested behind his head he noticed the inescapable absence beside him. Despite only being home for a day, he’d gotten too used to having her there. Or maybe he hadn’t gotten used to it at all, he thought as he remembered her frightened face from earlier, he’d noted the purplish blue colour of her bruise that had started to form and how it contrasted to her pale, clean face.

He couldn’t help but feel shitty for it, especially when he truly hadn’t meant to do it. But he knew that he did, not only because he wasn’t the kind of person to deny it, but because he felt the heaviness in his chest and guilt that spread throughout his body.

He closed his eyes in an attempt to stop seeing Renée’s face, but even his dreams were haunted with her tragic messages.

 

* * *

_This place again…he thought. The black nothingness that he’d dreamt before, he was back there again. Only this time it seemed even quieter, as if a whisper, a mere thought, was an explosion of sound. He turned around, not seeing anybody, but hearing the echoed, soft footsteps. His hunter skills listened out for where they were coming from, but they seemed to be everywhere, he felt himself falling but flying in the black void._

_“Daryl…” he heard the whisper, muffled through the thick air._

_He joined eyes with Renée who was on her knees, leaned up against the glass, her bloody palms smearing the glass with thick, red blood. He ran towards her, sliding his knees across the hardened ground as he neared the barrier between them, he pressed his hands against hers but never felt the warmth they would emit. He looked into her eyes and she in his, she looked even paler and weak, left in the exact condition she was in when he’d dreamt this the last time._

_“Daryl…help…” she whispered, her voice was muffled but now he could hear it. She swayed in her place, the blood collected at her knees, he could see she struggled to stay up._

_“Renée, what’s wrong?” he asked frantically, trying to make her stay awake. A few tears fell from her face as she pressed herself against the glass, trying to escape._

_“He’s…coming…help me” she pleaded, Daryl’s heart broke as his hands tried to find hers. But the barrier was sturdy and thick, transparent but strong._

_“Who?” he asked, but she looked terrified, as if afraid of something. Suddenly, behind Renée he saw two familiar pair of feet with worn out boots and dirtied jeans. His eyes trailed from his boots, up his torso, to his face and saw that the man shared the same face as him. Daryl studied his other self, the look in his eyes wasn’t the same, his facial expression was something he couldn’t quite read. But it didn’t look like his._

_Renée froze, feeling the presence behind her, she lowered her head in absolute submission, knowing there was no way she’d escape. She looked up again, terrified again,_

_“Daryl…help…” she whimpered, softer. Daryl felt his heart sink deeper into his body and he observed her face, she looked truly afraid._

_The man behind her slapped the side of her head, causing Renée to fall on her side from her weakness. Her  eyes were still on Daryl, behind the glass._

_“No!” he shouted first, but his emotions drowned his anger, “…baby girl…no”_

_He watched as his double sat on top of Renée, her attention on her attacker now, his large hands wrapped around her neck and squeezed tightly. Daryl saw her legs kick and her hands reached up to try and pry his hands from her small neck, her eyes drifted over to Daryl again. Her hand reached out, her index finger barely grazed the glass, but his hands were still there. His tears rained down his face as he watched her fight less and less, but eventually his hands released from her throat and punched her in the cheek. She cried out again, regaining consciousness in the process._

_Daryl watched in pain as his double ripped a section of Renée’s shirt, exposing the top of her bra and his face froze in horror at the realisation of what his double was about to do. He banged against the glass, his fists aching,_

_“Hey! Ya son of a bitch!” he tried to shout out at the man, knowing he could hear him. But Daryl remained ignored. He watched as his double dragged Renée up and flipped her body over, she tried to sit herself up, pushing her body off the ground. But she was slammed against the ground again by the man’s hand, his face remaining emotionless. He watched in horror as he pulled Renée’s clothing off her body, he heard her begin to cry._

_“Please…” she begged him, “Stop…”he pushed her body down with his, causing pressure to be applied on her still bleeding wounds._

_“Renée, baby girl…look at me ok” he said frantically, trying to at least put her at ease. She looked over at him with a look that conveyed the pain she was in, she looked broken._

_“Shut up” Daryl’s double said, forcing her head down again, his fingers wrapped in her hair. Daryl felt the disgust inside him when he heard him speak, he even sounded like him._

_“Daryl…” she whimpered again. Daryl watched in tears and sadness as he watched the man violate Renée, as he watched **him** … **rape** Renée…_

_She didn’t even react when he did, she just stared at Daryl behind the barrier, trying to hide the pain from him. It pained Daryl to think that she was used to something like this, that she could possibly be used to this feeling of being violated over and over. He didn’t know what to do._

_“Why, Daryl…” she finally whispered, a pained, betrayed expression across her face. He felt the wave of guilt once again, as well as disgust in himself. He slowly watched as the colour drained from Renée’s face, her eyes still open in the black darkness around her, but the life had disappeared._

* * *

Daryl woke in a cold sweat, he shot up upright in his bed, his knuckles white from gripping the bedsheets so much. His breathing was laboured from the confusion and the anger he’d felt in his dreams and suddenly waking up to find none of it was real. His chest rose and fell quickly as much as he tried to regain his composure, but it didn’t really help, clearly.

He felt a tear drop onto his chest and he raised his fingers to his eyes to find he was crying. As soon as the realisation hit him he pushed his hands to his eyes, the image of himself…doing such a thing to her, plagued his mind. He kept whispering to himself, that he loved her, he’d always love her.

But what reason did she have to believe him now.

 

* * *

 

Carol had knocked on the door a few times, but met with no response. She was worried about what Renée was, or had been, doing until she walked in to find she was still in a deep sleep. Her face rested against the pillow, arms tucked underneath it; it was clear that she’d either gone to sleep without a shirt or had taken it off in the middle of the night. It was unclear why. Carol snuck in with the tray of food she’d bought up from the kitchen in the attempt to feed Renée something, since she’d not had a scrap of food since she’d come to Carol’s house. She placed the tray on the edge of the table, looking over at Renée as she slept.

The sheets had come down in the night and revealed to Carol the scars that littered Renée’s back, but the older women didn’t say anything, she simply observed marks on her slender back. Comparing the older ones to the obvious newer ones, she’d remembered that back at the prison the governor had tortured her, but didn’t know how he’d done it.

Renée shifted and opened her eyes, seeing Carol place the tray on the table, she gasped and pulled the blanket up to her chest.

“Sorry sweetie, didn’t mean to wake you”

“No, no sorry, I just…” Renée gestured to her chest, “…got hot in the night” she smiled, but as fast as it appeared it dropped as her gaze directed out the window, as if she’d see someone.

“Have some breakfast, you’ve not had anything” Carol said, sitting down on the bed next to Renée, “And don’t apologise”

She looked over at the old woman, observing her expression, but unable to really read what the woman was trying to convey.

“You know…back at the prison. When you came to us, me and Hershel were the ones who fixed ya up” she said, her gaze following Renée’s, out the window. But the other woman was looking at her, trying to suss out what she was trying to say.

“Don’t think I didn’t see all the scars you had” Carol looked over at her, “They’re a little hard to miss”

Renée shifted uncomfortably, clearing distressed by the situation.

“I don’t have scars like you do, I had bruises but they fade. Unlike the memories they leave behind” Carol said sadly.

“In your case, you have both. The physical memory and the mental one”

“It’s not from a relationship” Renée commented, Carol only smiled.

“I know, Daryl told me”

Renée rolled her eyes, “What has he not told you” she asked sarcastically.

Carol laughed, “Not a lot. I know quite a bit. But I’m supposed to” she smiled at her, “You’ve been through a lot, that much is true, I don’t blame you for…you know…being a little messed up”

Renée bit her lip, thinking about the night before.

“I’ve been having these dreams…no memories rather” she said almost in a whisper, “It’s hard to even say it…to say the word that describes what happened”

Carol looked over at Renée and rested her hand on hers, in an attempt to comfort her.

“When I was, uh…raped I guess…I keep having vivid dreams of it” Renée looked out the window, avoiding the eye contact Carol was giving her, to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling, “I don’t think I ever gave myself time to recover from that…and before I knew it it happened again…”

There was a long silence between the two women, but not because there was nothing else to say, Renée was preoccupied with her thoughts. Her eyes were glazed with tears, and her grip on the bedsheets tightened, merely thinking about that time in her life,

“How do I even recover from that…” she asked herself. Looking over at Carol with teary eyes,

“Do you want the honest truth?” Carol asked, without waiting for her answer, “Nobody can”

Renée blinked slowly and let the tear form into a stray line down her cheek. Carol stood from her bed and left as quickly as she had entered, leaving the woman with her clouded thoughts, the painful bruise on her cheek only became more and more painful once she caught sight of Daryl outside her window.

 


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

It felt like months. Agonising months.

She watched the people go by down below her, following the footsteps of the residents of Alexandria. She watched as a priest she’d not met before smiled at people who passed by, a gun slung around his back. She memories the swapping of the guards at the gate, the timetables stuck like clockwork in her head and she watched from her window as Carol sat on her bench down below, smoking a cigarette.

Days, they were just a small slither of light within the dark. All hours of the day became agonising for Renée. And she watched Carol and Daryl talk sometimes, but whenever he would look up at the window, she would hide away.

 There were more nightmares since the incident, more vivid and somehow more real. As if her mind was torturing her with the ability to transfer reality into her horrifying dreams. It was torture just seeing Daryl walk around and seeing him occasionally look up to window, to find that she was not where she usually was. 

Renée remembered a few hours where Daryl had disappeared, with the same girl that was in his house when she’d returned and some other stranger. She didn’t come back and when Renée caught his silhouette again, he was burying her with Carol.

But just like that, Carol was gone as well, leaving only a note to a man she’d had some short relationship with. Renée stayed in the house, with more fear in her heart and more paranoia as she checked the locks and peeked out the windows more frequently. Not afraid of Daryl necessarily…but her heart weighed heavy with a bad feeling. The same feeling she’d had when she’d seen the Governor at the prison gates.

 

* * *

 

On one day Renée dared to venture outside, throwing on her classic jeans and black tank top, she rubbed her palms over her arms to keep them warm. The cool wind stung the bruise on her cheek but she brushed the feeling of, feeling the nice rays of sun from the sky. She heard the boom of a motorbike and assumed it would be Daryl and as she approached the gates, her suspicions were correct; it would be like him to rush off with his head full of emotions.

She stood, arms folded watching him ride away.

“Renée?” Maggie looked over to the woman, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. Maggie wasn’t even surprised by her presence, but by the blue and yellow bruise that had grown slightly bigger on her face; a look of sympathy spread across her face. Renée broke out her trance to find everyone was staring at her and she suddenly felt a little self conscious about the obvious sign of betrayal on her face.

“Where’d he go?”

Maggie almost seemed shocked by her question and furrowed her eyebrows, seemingly confused herself, “He-he just left? I dunno why”

 

Renée looked out to the drive, imagining she’d see him there again. But she didn’t.

“Give me a gun, I’m coming with you” she said,

“Renée, no! We’ve got to keep numbers here!” Glenn ordered, she ignored him, strapping a holster to her waist and attaching some guns and ammunition to it instead. She looked over at Glenn and raised her eyebrow, her personality shining through the fear that had lingered inside her for days.

“I’m going, Glenn” she said, following Michonne and getting in the back of the car. The woman named Rosita followed shortly behind and sat next to her, not before telling the ginger man who’d ordered to come too, to stay behind.

Rosita quickly looked over at Renée, who was loading her many guns expertly. Rosita raised her eyebrows,

“How’d you learn to do that?” she asked mockingly, Renée rolled her eyes at the woman.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, love” Renée said, placing her large rifle next to her.

“Love?” Rosita raised her eyebrows at the term of endearment, misunderstanding the English phrasing the other woman was using.

Renée flatly joined gazes with her, “You want one of these?” she asked, pointing to her painful bruise.

The car journey there was a long and silent one, every now and then Rosita gave directions on where to go. About half way in, Rosita seemed to have calmed her tits a little,

“You and Daryl, huh?” she asked.

“Does it look like it’s me and Daryl”

Rosita shrugged, bad question to ask really.

“You and that ginger guy were together weren’t you” Renée said, eyes now joining hers. Rosita looked over, some mighty thin ice was being trod on here,

“Were” she replied.

“I know, the look you gave him tells me everything” Renée joked, smiling for the first time in a while. Surprisingly, Rosita did too but a small silence passed between them before she spoke again,

“He’s an asshole” Renée smiled, looking over at Rosita. She looked at her, then down at the ground, smiling as well.

 

* * *

 

Renée had the gun slung over her shoulder as she walked, holding the rifle in her hands she looked around for any sign of Daryl.

Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure why she volunteered to do this, to come after the man that she still quite clearly loved, but wasn’t sure if he did. She’d felt brave today and had gone entirely out her comfort zone by even coming out the house, but now she was going to face him…if they ever found him.

Rosita nodded in the other direction, hinting that she had seen something. Renée immediately turned around, hearing the wind rustle softly in the trees she also heard the quiet, distant steps of feet through the tall grass. And when she saw his upper body struggle through them, she pushed down the fear that threatened to rear its ugly head. She would not and would not ever let him believe that what he’d done had broken her, he was the man she loved and whether or not it was an accident, she didn’t care. She might not have the capacity to forgive what he had done, but she pushed that fearful head down, and raised her head; eyes ready to look straight into his.

Rosita wasn’t happy when Daryl’s arrow shot not inches away from her and he immediately flew into a fit of anger.

“Ya shouldn’ta come!” he shouted

“You shouldn’t have left” Michonne replied. Daryl looked over his shoulder, his eyes glued to the woman behind Michonne. He caught Renée’s eyes, but she did not look afraid, if anything she looked determined; he was almost glad but it quickly disappeared when he saw the worsened bruise on her cheek, having not seen her for a couple of days.

It simply slipped out of his mouth, “Renée…” he didn’t realise he had said it to her. She stepped forward, in front of him.

“Yes?” she asked, almost mockingly. As if he was surprised to see that she hadn’t died or something.

He stepped forward, studying her face, his hand reached out for a second to touch her but he pulled his hand back, afraid to touch her again.

“Daryl, we need to go home” Glenn said, breaking the two from their trance. Daryl looked over clearly angry, “We need you, everyone back at home needs you”

At the words Daryl hesitantly looked over at Renée, she nodded ever so slightly.

“We’ll square it, I will…I promise you, just come back” Michonne was begging him. Daryl was still looking at Renée and she straight at him, she almost looked like she was thinking about something.

“I gotta go” Renée said quickly, walking past Daryl, wafting the smell of her clothing detergent against Daryl’s nose, he watched her walk away.

He turned back to Michonne who was watching Renée walk in shock, “I can't” Daryl said quickly, turning his back to them as well. Eventually, Rosita shook her head and followed the two quickly.

Renée stayed in front, feeling his presence behind her. She stopped in her steps,

“Hey” Daryl said, Renée turned, a not so impressed expression on her face.

There was a long silence between the two.

“What, you’re scared of me now?” she asked sarcastically, he averted his gaze, feeling more guilty the more he talked with her.

“Renée…baby girl I-I dunno what to say”

“Don’t ‘baby girl’ me. You can say sorry as much as you like Daryl, just because I showed my fucked up face again doesn’t mean I forgive you”

He nodded slightly, “I know”

“No, you don’t know”

He looked up, guilty eyes meeting hers. She stepped forward, letting her rifle hang off her shoulder.

“You don’t know, because I doubt that after the prison the things that happened to me happened to you as well. You don’t because when I saw you for the first time, I didn’t jump to those conclusions. You  **don’t** know, because I didn’t hit you, Daryl”

He lowered his head again, “Look at me, Daryl”

He did as she asked him.

“Do you love me? Did you ever?” she asked, waiting for an awful answer. He bit his lip and began fussing about, pacing on the spot.

“Do you?” Daryl asked. Renée was surprised he would ask, she thought it was…fairly obvious. But maybe not as much as she thought it would have been.

“I never stopped, Daryl”

Suddenly, Renée’s attention was cut short by the sound of a few whistles where Glenn and Michonne had been left. She quickly raised her gun, surprising Daryl with her speed.

“No” Daryl warned, reaching his arm out to stop Renée from going any further. Rosita stepped forward,

“What’s going on?” she asked, gun raised.

“It’s them” Daryl said.

“Who?” asked Renée,

“You didn’t tell her yet?!” Rosita shouted at Daryl,

“Now ain’t the time”

“Tell me what?!”

“We ain’t got time for this”

 

* * *

 

Daryl squatted slightly, his crossbow raised to shoot one of the men that tied Glenn and Michonne up. He raised his finger to his lips as Glenn noticed him. Renée hid behind some trees further behind Daryl whilst Rosita stayed by his side.

Her eyes widened in shock as she heard the loud gunshot and she revealed herself from her hiding spot to find a blonde man, pointing his gun towards Daryl, having just shot him in the shoulder. She saw all the blood pouring down his chest and gasped louder than she intended.

“you’ll be alright” the men said before turning head.

His attention shifted to her and he immediately hurled a few bullets towards her.

She screamed in pain as one bullet lodged itself into her arm, blood pouring down past her hands. She hardly had time to process what was going on before she was being chased through the woods, her blood only leading the man on a trail of where she was.

“No point in runnin’!” he shouted, Renée could hear multiple footsteps after her and figured he’d bought backup. She pressed her other hand to the wound in her arm as she ran, not seeing any of them yet, but hearing their shouts of orders.

Hastily, she climbed one of the tall trees, her injury only making it more difficult to gain strength. But eventually, she landed on one of the taller branches and sat against the trunk, hiding herself from the men below. From the corner of her eye she saw three men below her lead by the blonde man looking out for where she’d gone; Renée calmed her breathing to avoid the detection.

“Search the area, we ain’t leavin’ without her” the blonde man ordered. She sighed in annoyance, looking over to her injured arm. But the top thought was Daryl, how she’d seen him get shot and he laid limp on the ground, her breathing became laboured as she began to cry, thinking the worse case scenario that Daryl was dead.

 _He can’t die, Daryl can’t die…_ she kept saying to herself. She felt her eyes become heavy and her vision blurred around the edges as more and more blood left her body and down her arm. Her breathing slowed and she found herself slipping into a dangerous sleep, her arm lay limp beside her.

 

* * *

 

She was rudely awakened by shouting and screaming and she looked around scared, having woken up to such a sound it startled her at first. She looked over at her arm to find it had stopped bleeding, but probably not in a good shape; Renée slowly ripped a strip of cloth from her shirt with her teeth and slowly tied the cloth around her arm, over the bullet hole, pulling one end to tighter it with her teeth.

She looked around, having figured the men had given up on their search. It was now dark, nightfall, they must have given up, she thought.

Carefully, she landed softly on her feet pushing from the tree, making her arm hurt slightly she whimpered. Looking around, she raised the gun she still had slung around her and snuck to the source of the sound. It still sounded very distant but maybe that’s the way it should have been.

There was a large hill that looked down on a particular road and once she peered over it she saw a line of people forced on their knees, crying, screaming. Rick? Was that Rosita? And Daryl, Carl…they were all there. Renée looked over at Daryl and saw that he looked slumped over and in general not in a very good way.

Quickly, she took her gun and set it up on a nearby branch. Looking closer, there was a man who seemed to be antagonising them. He had a bat with some sort of wire wrapped around it, Renée became even more worried once she realised it was covered in blood; but she was still unable to see his face or hear him. She aimed her gun specifically at one of the men who was pointing a gun at Maggie’s head, she looked awful. What happened…

She inhaled slowly as she aimed, being careful at how shaky her hands were, she bit her lip as her index finger slowly curled around the trigger. Her full concentration on the back of the man’s head.

She felt a cold, metal item press against the back of her head and she froze and quite literally felt her heart stop for a moment. She was unsure whether or not to pull the trigger while she could or not,

“Drop it” someone said, it sounded like the blonde man from earlier.

She took her time processing it and didn’t immediately do what he said. She could feel her chest rise and fall as she watched the man in the leather jacket walk up to Rick…

“I won’t ask ya again”

Sighing quietly in defeat, she raised one of her hands up, the other still holding the barrel of the gun. She pushed herself up off her knees and turned around, hands raised in submission, her gaze never met his until he snatched her gun away from her. He still pointed his gun towards her face as he studied her, smiling; she looked at him, he looked  _fucked._ One side of his face was pink and looked….almost burned?

“Well well, boss’ll like you”

Renée furrowed her brows, boss?

He motioned towards the two men behind him, “What dya say boys, should we rough her up a li’l for him?”

They merely laughed as they approached Renée. Knowing she was injured and had a gun to her head, she looked over at the blonde man as the two others surrounded her. One of them used his whole body momentum to punch her straight in the stomach, knocking any air out of her immediately. She fell over slightly, regaining her composure, she went to stand but was pushed down by the other, her head hit the ground harshly as both men begn kicking her in the same place. She screamed out in pain as they harshly kicked her ribs with their steel toed boots, she swore she heard the faint crack in her side. She held it in pain as one of the men kept punching her in the stomach and on the face a few times, making blood run from her nose and lip slightly.

The blonde man figured they were having too much fun with this and ordered them to stop,

“Alright alright, he won’t be happy if you beat her up too much” he shooed the men off her and tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her up she felt the burning heat of pain in her scalp as he did so. He gripped her hair harshly as the other man grabbed her arm, making her groan loudly in pain as he gripped the place where she was shot.

“Now ya gonna meet the man”

It was a different kind of fear that Renée felt. Not only was she in immense pain, convinced that one of her ribs was broken or fractured at least, not only that but this blonde fuckface was dragging her by the hair. She felt incredibly weak.

Eventually, she was guided to the line-up, where she caught sight of the man in leather talking to Rick, trying to intimidate him. But Renée’s head was kept low and the two men threw her to the ground beside Rick, she groaned loudly in pain as she landed on her side, her shaking hand going to cradle the painful area.

“Ho-lee SHIT, Dwighty boy. Really kicked the shit outta this one, didn’t ya” the man said, he had a low, gravelly voice as he sauntered over to Renée. Her bloody hair covered her face as she laid on the ground, her hand attempting to push her off the ground. The man knelt in front of her, staring as his tongue grazed over his lips and caught in his teeth. He had his baseball ball in front of him, covered in blood and all manner of things. Renée became uneasy.

She lifted herself up slightly, groaning again and tried to look over to Daryl, he was shaking and looked…afraid.

“Hey” the man said, making her jump, “Eyes over here, doll”

She slowly turned, but didn’t look up to the man, she could feel her arm shaking, unable to support her body.

The man’s expression became stoic and threatening, the tone completely changed.

“Kneel”

Renée slowly pushed herself off the ground, trying to control her cries of pain. She pushed herself onto her knees, but one side of her body still supported by her arm, she felt the tears run down her face. She looked at the man’s boots in front of her and then to the lineup, she saw a pool of blood connected to a body, recognising his clothing as that ginger haired man from earlier. Then she saw another…absolutely obliterated, unrecognisable. She could see Maggie cry out towards the body and Renée shook her head, it couldn’t be…couldn’t possibly be. Glenn.

She felt herself unable to keep her tears in as they ran down her face, she was not afraid…she was terrified. The man in front of her raised his bloody baseball bat to her face, her eyes returned to the ground,

“Do not make me ask again, doll. Eyes. Over. Here”

He didn’t wait for her to respond or do anything as he gently placed the bat below her chin to lift her face up, he saw her watery eyes, the bruise on her face, the blood from her nose and chin and how she was gripping her side.

“Je-sus Dwight, you fucked her up!” he shouted, his face lighting up into a smile as he looked over at the blonde man. His brown eyes returned to hers, her teary eyes were looking down.

“Look at me” he ordered and she swiftly did so. She studied his face, the beard, the eyes, his hair and how he called her  _doll._  Renée found herself unable to turn away now, he found this amusing and laughed quietly, “Like what ya see?” he asked, his toothy smile made his face erupt with charm and some sort of memory.

She felt the words stuck in her throat as she tried to get them out, she could see him getting more confused as more time went by. But her eyes were wide, mouth agape as she stared at the man in front of her, the man she remembered as…

“Negan?” she managed.

His face fell.

 


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

_5 years previous_

_“I see ya watching the volleyball team, you need to get your dick wet, boy” Negan said as he followed one of the football students down the hallway to detention. The boy in front who was around fifteen rolled his eyes at his coach’s profanity, which at this point shouldn’t have been so surprising. Negan’s eyes drifted to the classrooms and caught sight of all the teachers in the science and math rooms were in the middle of teaching, most of them didn’t care for Negan that much. He caught his tongue in between his lips as he looked in every room, bored._

_The boy in front’s attention was caught by a classroom that was previously taught by a grumpy, old man who merely shouted chemistry and biology to the students. But now there was a different teacher, she was much younger and softer than the previous._

_“What you gawking at boy” Negan said as he followed the boy’s gaze, he saw her. The new teacher he hadn’t seen yet. Today must be her first day and to say it was, she didn’t seem nervous at all. She was gracefully leaning on the edge of her desk, a chemistry book on her lap opened to a page talking about protons, occasionally she gestured to the chalkboard to explain a few things._

_She was pale, dark brunette and she wore a blouse with a cardigan around it, a long skirt hung around her hips and his eyes travelled down her black tights to her short high heels. Her dark hair was pulled back neatly into a ponytail and slung over her shoulder, her eyes were a light green colour, complimenting her pale features._

_Negan pushed against the boy’s back lightly, silently ordering him to keep going. The image of the new teacher never once left his mind as he taught the football class until the end of the school day._

_The staff room was bustling with teacher’s getting their things together to go home, the mindless chatter flew straight over Negan’s head as he poured himself a coffee, sitting down once again to fill out the progress reports of his sport’s students alone._

_The woman he’d seen before entered the staffroom, she’d pulled her ponytail free and her long hair fell on her shoulders to her mid back. She held a folder in her hands containing the students’ homework that was collected, standing on her tiptoes she placed the folder into the teacher’s cabinet. Negan’s eyes never left her body, his bit the top of his pen lightly as he watched her turn around, her eyes finally met his._

_“Oh, hello” she said, smiling, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there”_

_Negan furrowed his eyebrows at her accent, if any school was going to have an international teacher it wouldn’t be this one. She walked over to Negan’s table and stretched her hand out,_

_“Hi, I’m Miss Williams…or rather, Renée. Well, you can call me Renée” she smiled. Negan smiled at her confidence, he half expected her to be young and shy but her presence was surprising. Nobody ever just went up to Negan and shook his hand. He smiled back at her, watching the confidence in her eyes and shook her hand._

_“Well hello to you too, Miss Williams” he said, a smirk plastered all over his face, he leaned back in his chair. Her voice added a whole new layer of attraction for him, “Please, sit”_

_She took the chair beside him, her coat laid against her lap, he watched her delicate movements._

_“Nice to meet you, I’m the replacement for Mr Green in the Science Department” she smiled again, he couldn’t help but smile back “And yourself?”_

_He chuckled at her politeness, “Negan. Sports Department. Pleasure to meet you, doll”_

_How he said the last sentence made a warm feeling spread through her stomach and through her whole body, he smiled as he watched her, as if knowing what he was doing. She smiled slightly, her eyes always connected to his, not nervous enough (or at all) to look away from his burning gaze._

_“As much as I’m enjoying this little chit-chat, I really must be going” she said, pulling her sleeve up slightly to reveal the time on her watch. She stood from her chair, her small heels clicking on the ground._

_“See ya, doll” he replied, giving a quick wink to her. She laughed quietly as he did turning her back slightly, her eyes continued to battle with his,_

_“See ya, Negan” she replied, placing emphasis on his name as she turned to leave, knowing he was watching her._

_Negan played with his pen as he watched her leave, thinking about her body confidence and the way she said his name. She was the first woman he’d flirted with romantically (not sexually) since Lucille had died a few months previous._

_“Renée, huh…” he muttered to himself, her face pictured in his mind._

* * *

_Negan yawned as he locked his car, frankly he couldn’t be bothered to teach his piece of shit class that day. He walked through the corridors of the hall, looking into Renée’s class very briefly, seeing her teach her class something. Her class was marginally more uniform than anyone else’s but that’s because she had a surprising window into her personality than Negan found quite amusing._

_“How do you piece’s of shit not know where Potassium is on the Periodic Table?” she said to her class, the periodic table spread onto the chalkboard. One boy giggled in the back at the mention of the word ‘period’ and Renée connected gazes with him, her burning anger making him want to hit him. She took a pen from her blouse and threw it expertly in his direction when he wasn’t paying attention, the pen hit the boy square in the forehead and he groaned in pain._

_“Ow!” he shouted, the class turned to laugh at him slightly,_

_“Grow the fuck up, Jonathan” Renée warned,_

_“My mom will sue! You can’t hurt me in school!”_

_Renée giggled, “I’d like to see you prove that” she smiled and turned back to her board, catching eyes with Negan in the hallway she gave him a quick nod and a smile. He chuckled at her teaching ways._

_He’d been flirting with Renée for months now, usually women who were into Negan would just give in within a few weeks due to his charm, of which he was very aware of. Negan was always aware of the effect he had on women, sometimes he felt the heavy guilt of it when he thought of his affair when Lucille was alive, he would never forget about it that’s for sure. He’d had many women since her death to attempt to fill the gap left behind by her absence, but nobody he woke up to the next day was the same._

_Renée might not have been that person but she was different somehow in his mind, she enjoyed the chase as well and flirted with him constantly; but she never gave in. It’s been months and she’s never made one move on him, they’ve merely been existing with one another, knowing their feelings underneath._

_He was definitely interested._

* * *

_After his long day of babysitting the sports teams, Negan retired to the staff room once again, to find nobody there. He furrowed his brows and checked his watch to find it was already six o’clock, he sighed knowing how much extra work he needed to do. But instead decided to wander the halls to see if anyone interesting was still lurking around._

_He leaned against Renée’s classroom door and watched as she packed away all her chemistry equipment, disappearing into the closet at the back of the room on occasion. On this particular day, she wore button up blouse, cardigan and a navy skirt, showing off her small waist. He bit his lip, smiling and followed her into the chemistry closet quietly; she hadn’t noticed him yet as she packed away the Bunsen burners until he closed the door behind them both. She screamed in surprise and looked behind her to find him smirking, hands in his pockets._

_“Jesus Christ, Negan, you scared me!” she whispered, but smiling. She turned back to continue what she was doing, “You doing a bit of overtime as well?” she asked, stacking the students’ books onto the shelves. He shrugged,_

_“Just figured I’d come visit ya, doll” he said, his voice a little lower than normal. She laughed through her nose,_

_“I see, well sorry, I’m not great company” she replied, pushing on her toes to reach the higher shelf. Negan stood closely behind her and slid his hands around her waist, his lips immediately attaching to her soft neck, “Negan?” she said breathlessly as he kissed her jaw, his hands pressing into her hips, he heard her breathe contently. He placed one more kiss on her nape,_

_“Yeah?” he replied smiling, going to kiss her again, he stepped closer into her and she felt his lower body against hers along with the warm sensation in her stomach, settling between her legs. One of Negan’s hand drifted upwards to her breast to give it a gentle squeeze, eliciting another gentle moan that tumbled past her lips, his other hand slipped underneath her skirt and rested between her legs._

_“All ya gotta do is say no, doll” he said quietly, his hand dipping between her legs to rub the sensitive area there and she moaned out again, feeling his fingers on the most intimate parts of her. Negan smiled against her skin, figuring she didn’t want him to stop. He turned her around and looked up to see her darkened eyes looking at him, a small smile gracing her face as she leaned in to initiate the kiss._

_He was surprised to see her making the move but probably shouldn’t have been, she was a confident woman, even sexually it seemed. Negan’s hand drifted to her thigh and pulled her legs around him, he carried her to a nearby table and placed her on top of it, their lips still messily connected, needy and full of passion._

_He was rested between her legs, pushing them apart as his hands went up to her cardigan to push the sleeves away exposing her arms to him and leaving her in her buttoned up blouse. His hands went to the buttons, Renée too lost in the heated kisses to deny him, her hands wandered his chest, her fingers tangling in his hair pulling him further in. Negan felt his erection grow at her roughness._

_Once his fingers touched her chest to push her now unbuttoned blouse away, Renée pulled away from the kiss and sensing her nervousness, pulled away._

_“What’s the matter, doll?” he asked, he saw how anxious she immediately became and looked down to her chest, seeing the lightly pigmented splashes of skin against her already pale complexion. His eyes flickered to one portion of her skin, to her arms, shoulders and simply saw more and more patches of what looked like burned skin._

_He looked up to her to see she had averted her gaze and pulled her blouse across her chest, making sure that whatever he saw was now covered by either her hands or clothes._

_“Renée…” he whispered, she looked over to him. There were no tears in her eyes like he expected, she just looked hurt or triggered by something._

_“Sorry” she said, Negan shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, semi-awkwardly,_

_“Ain’t anything to be sorry for” he replied, “Just…what happened?”_

_She raised her eyebrows at him._

_“Not to be fuckin’ personal or anything, doll” he smiled, which made her smile too. She began buttoning her blouse again and took a deep breath, looking into Negan’s eyes again softly._

_“Wanna come over my place. We can drink and chat” she suggested, he raised his eyebrows as well as the prospect she’d given him, “I know there’s a lot you wanna know, and I to you”_

_He shrugged his shoulders, “Sure”_

_They took separate cars of course, so that no rumours would spread around the school about either of them leaving their cars there. No work was done but neither of them seemed to mind._

_Renée unlocked the door to her home, it was small but homely. Negan walked through the hallway, looking at the little nic nacs that she had in her home and quintessential English things laid around the house._

_“What do you like? Whiskey?” she asked as she rifled through her cupboards, placing two cups on the table._

_“You know a whiskey man when you see one, huh” he said, smiling. She placed the large bottle of Jack Daniels on the table and took a seat next to Negan, pouring his glass and hers._

_“Cheers” she smiled as they clinked their glasses, she drank hers in one fell swoop and went to pour another, making Negan raise his eyebrows._

_“Right, shoot” Renée said, leaning back and taking a sip, “Ask me something”_

_“uh, ok. Well I think the major fucking question is what happened to you?” Negan asked softly, trying not to pry too much. Renée swirled the liquid in her glass._

_“Well I’m from England, when I was seven Mum and Dad started doing drugs, abusing me and eventually I was caught in a house fire caused by my father. They just left me there” she said matter of factly, she didn’t seem very sad about it, she merely stated the facts._

_“I got third degree burns on large portions of my body, that’s what you saw” she shrugged and sipped her drink again._

_“My turn” she said, leaving Negan with little time to react to what she’d just told him, “What’s your story”_

_“Wait a minute, I gotta fuckin’ process this. Why’re you fuckin’ here then?” he asked, she raised her eyebrows,_

_  
“Well, they went to prison obviously. Don’t think I’d wanna be around by the time they got out”_

_Negan nodded, it was a fair point._

_“Now, go” she smiled._

_“Fuck, you’re relentless…I used to be married. Yeah I know, shocker. Almost two years ago, she was diagnosed with cancer, but chose not to tell me ‘til the fuckin’ last minute. She died a year ago, on her deathbed confessing she’d been raped; ever since I’ve been doin’ just this” he said referring to the drink in his hand. Renée’s face shifted towards an empathetic one as she heard his story, her eyes flickering to the ground as she quietly sipped her whiskey._

_“Don’t feel too sorry for me, I was an asshole. Still motherfuckin’ am” he said finishing his bottle of whiskey, Renée poured more into his glass and he nodded in thanks._

_“I’m sorry, Negan” she said quietly, he turned to her, the whiskey was getting to him already as she saw his eyes become tired, “I had no idea”, she finished her drink._

_More and more drinks were poured between he two and more secrets began to creep up, laughter filled the kitchen as the two continued to talk._

_“What about you, doll?”_

_Her laughter died down and she sipped more as her cheeks got progressively more red, “What?”_

_“Anyone on the scene? Boyfriends and shit?”_

_She shook her head, as if offended, “Oh fuck no! England has no men that I’m into, at least where I was from anyway, and here I’ve never had a date”_

_Negan looked surprised, “Well I think I’m gonna have to fuckin’ fix that shit!”_

_  
Renée raised one of her eyebrows, smirking, going to take another sip, “Is that so?”_

_“That is if you’re fucking willing, doll” he smiled._

_“I never said no” she replied smiling. Negan smiled as well, looking into her deep green eyes._

_“Jesus is that the time, I’ve gotta go” Negan said, standing from his chair. A small look of disappointment spread over Renée’s face as he stood up to leave and walk to the door._

_“Are you ok getting home?” she asked as he turned around, her body leaning against the doorframe, he smiled._

_“Yeah I don’t live far, I’ll come pick up my car tomorrow” he replied, she nodded, “How’s Sunday for you?” he asked. She cocked her head, smiling._

_“Sunday?”_

_“Our fuckin’ date” he replied, his tongue held between his teeth. She squinted her eyes and smiled,_

_“Sounds good to me. Just one more thing”_

_“What?”_

_She reached her hands up to the back of his neck and pulled his head down to meet her, his lips landed on hers and they shared a passionate, hot kiss for a moment before she pushed on his chest, smirking._

_“Good night, Negan” she gave him a short wink and disappeared into her home, leaving Negan a little hot under the collar, but needing much, much more. She wasn’t the typical woman he would have gone for, she dressed conservatively and usually kept to herself unless it involved her. But when she was confident (and had a little bit of whiskey) the real, potty mouthed version rose from its depths and she was immediately sexier in his eyes. The confidence is what attracted Negan to her, as well as her deep, but bright green eyes._

_He found himself becoming both excited but secretly nervous at the prospect of Sunday._

 


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

He stared into her scared, almost traumatised green eyes. Her iris’ were shaking, anticipating what Negan’s reaction was going to be. And all his memories came crashing down like a tonne of bricks, his head began to hurt from all the moments he remembered when she had previously existed in his life. His breathing was calm but slow and his eyes wandered to the same burn marks he’d touched before, another layer of proof that the woman in front of him, was Renée.

In his confused mind, he remembered hearing that she had gone missing, the night after their date. He remembered that he became a suspect but was quickly dropped from the police’s attention. He remembered endless nights of drinking and anger thinking he was the cause of her disappearance. That she was probably dead.

And here she was in front of him, the blood of her friends’ hanging off the bat he’d named after his dead wife, Lucille. A few strands of her hair lay beside her face, swaying softly in the cold wind of the night, she had flushed cheeks and countless bruises on her body he could see clearly, with the added smeared blood under her nose and the horrific bruise on her jaw.

He wondered what to say for a while after she’d said his name and all of a sudden he’d remembered all the times his name ever came out her mouth. His mouth was dry with her name attempting to leave his throat, but he couldn’t find the strength to let her name out. Her eyes went on his bat, seeing the flesh and blood dripping and hanging off of it, she began to feel sick, tears welled in her eyes.

She looked down the line-up and saw what remained first of the ginger haired man she’d seen earlier, but it wasn’t that that made Renée’s tears fall down her face. At the end, was a familiar body which Maggie was reaching out for and crying over, the hair was black and she recognised the clothing as what Glenn had worn earlier that day. Her mouth hung open in shock and the tears began to fall down her hot face, her fingers dug into the earth below her as she held in her cries. She wanted to scream, but only small whimpers came out.

“Renée…” Negan finally said, only confirming her identity now. Her reached his gloved hand out to her as she stared at the bat, covered in both the men’s blood, “Hell am I glad to see you—” his hand grazed her bruised cheek and she flinched away, her grief transforming to anger. Her eyes met Negan’s and he pulled his hand away, seeing the hurt and betrayal present on her face.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she shouted back at him, pushing him away, but her strength wasn’t enough and he merely staggered backwards, rising to his feet. He kept his face on hers and now she was fully crying, not only from the death of her friend but from his betrayal.

Dwight stepped forward, mistaking the situation as Renée simply acting out, unaware that Negan knew her.

“Hey!” he shouted at her, hitting her with the blunt end of the gun between her shoulders. She whimpered in pain and fell forwards, more pain pulsated in her ribcage and Dwight kicked her one more time before Negan stopped him. He knelt to her pained form and attempted to help her up, his hand grazing one of her shoulders, she waved him away and supported herself on one arm again, her hand outstretched to him. Her eyes were wide with anger,

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me” she warned lowly, her breathing hitching with the amount of pain her body was going through. Negan’s expression dropped as he saw the large bruise on her jaw, having previously been unnoticed by him. He lifted his bat to her face again, but she didn’t even flinch, that was one of the things he loved about her before. She was fearless and confident, that hadn’t changed.

“Who the fuck did that shit to your face?” he asked. Renée’s face dropped, suddenly very aware of it. Her eyes flicked over to Daryl but very quickly but returned to the ground in front of her; but Negan’s eyes followed hers to the man on the end. He sauntered over to Daryl, huddled over in a bloody blanket and knelt in front of him, his eyes challenging Daryl’s. The only two men that were ever in Renée’s life were face to face, and boy they hated each other.

“That shit on her face was you, huh?” he asked, Daryl didn’t reply but he didn’t have to, his guilty face gave it all away. Negan secretly was holding in all the anger inside, having been so worried about her when she’d disappeared, he’d become very protective in the last few minutes. His eyes flickered up to Simon and nodded his head,

“Load him up” he ordered and almost immediately Daryl was dragged away into the truck. Renée rose to her feet quickly, running after him. She stumbled as she stood due to her pain but kept running for him, but she was held back by Negan’s hand of which Renée tried to break away from. The mere touch from him, made her feel angry.

“Get off me!” she shouted in his face, attempting to pull her hand away,

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

She eventually pulled her hand free and met eyes, as if also challenging him.

“Wherever he goes, I go” she said confidently to his face. Everyone was still on the floor kneeling, mouths agape at Renée challenging the man who’d brutally murdered two of their friends. Her body confidence was as strong as Negan’s, albeit a bit smaller in frame, despite the beating she’d received earlier. Her eyes bore into Negan’s and for a moment, even the Saviour’s believed that Negan would have punished or even killed her from the look he was giving.

But he merely looked over at Simon and nodded his head towards the truck, “Her too”

He gave Renée one last look before he walked away towards Rick. The look was mutual between the two of them, there were so many things that Renée blamed Negan for, things he had done. Negan knew this, but wasn’t about to accept any of the blame for them.

Simon pulled on Renée’s arm to lead her to the truck, a little more gently than with Daryl as he’d seen the way Negan acted with her. Which no doubt he’d ask Negan about later.

Renée sat opposite Daryl, elbows on her knees, her eyes avoiding his. But his were stuck on her as the doors closed and the engine roared to life, taking them both away from the people they knew without even a goodbye.

She sat there, thinking of the look on his face as she held all her pain and anger in her body. He foot twitching from the anticipation that he’d finally get what was coming to him; she felt Daryl’s gaze, but never joined it.

“How do ya know that asshole” he asked, the way he said it made it seem unlike a question but more a demand. Slowly, her eyes dragged up to his and Daryl swallowed, seeing her beaten up face made the guilt rise up again and he immediately softened his eyes.

“He’s the reason I was kidnapped” she answered shortly, there were no tears in her eyes. At this point she didn’t even think she could cry, but at the moment all she felt was betrayal. Daryl felt the anger boil up inside of his body, his knuckles began to turn white from his clenching and he felt his head get hot. To alleviate some of the anger, he punched the metal walls of the truck, making Renée jump slightly. But he kept doing it, making the tops of his hands sore.

  
“Daryl, stop it” she said quietly, but he did as he was told. His body was exhausted anyway and he became aware of the pain spreading across his chest, he looked over to Renée to see her holding her side in pain. He knelt on the floor before her and looked up to her, her eyes met his and he felt warm inside for a moment.

“Lemme see” he gestured to her side and whimpering slightly she pulled her shirt up over her arm, revealing the sore, red mark left behind. He touched it slightly, but she pulled away, “sorry” he whispered. As he inspected her, she just kept looking at him, his eyes. She felt the familiar warm sensation in her gut, she found herself smiling.

“What?” he asked, catching her staring at him, she shook her head.

“Nothing” she answered shortly. Her other hand grazed over his cheek, then pulled the strands of hair that were hanging in front of his face back to see more of him. He saw the soft, loving look in her eyes that he’d last seen back at the prison, but he wasn’t sure why she was showing it now, in this time of danger.

Her thumb softly rubbed over his cheek, she blinked softly once before completely closing her eyes and before Daryl could realise, her lips were on his. The warm feeling returned, and his hand cradled her face, pulling her further in. Since her return, this was probably the most in love he’d felt, the most like her old self she’d been. He cursed not only himself for giving in to it, but her as well. They were complicated people leading a complicated relationship. Love weaved in with heartbreak, betrayal and hurt.

He felt her lips move against his and he couldn’t help but feel more and more drawn in by her, her inviting aura sent a completely new feeling flooding his body. It was like she embodied fire itself, the passion coming off of her.

She pulled away and smiled at him, being able to read his mind from his expression.

“I love you” she said, as if it was to herself it was so quiet, “Don’t forget that”

The truck immediately came to a stop and Renée steadied herself on his shoulders to keep herself upright. The doors opened and in came a flood of light from the early sunrise, temporarily blinding them both; a few men stepped in grabbing them both harshly and without a care for their injuries. Their eyes never left each other as Negan’s right hand man sent them away.

“Hey, fucking watch it!” Renée ordered the men beside her as they carelessly pushed her around, making her pain worse. The man beside her, elbowed her in the stomach at her comment, making her keel over and tears prick at her eyes.

They came to a small room, dirty with mud and all manner of things. They pushed her in and she tumbled to the floor, looking back to see those two men as well as Daryl being held back. She seemed a bit more vulnerable now that she was being cornered by these men as they snickered before her,

“Take ‘em off” they ordered. She furrowed her brows in confusion, standing there, cradling her own arms. She stepped back and shook her head, as if she were about to cry.

“No” she murmured softly. Her eyes flickering over to Daryl, he was struggling against the two men in protest, his eyes connecting with hers. He wished he could be there for her.

“Strip” the man pointed a gun in Daryl’s direction, Renée looked over at her lover with a worried expression as if she’d completely not heard the man’s command. Daryl shook his head, his sad eyes seeing her teary ones. He knew her mind was rushing with memories that she’d rather forget. She gripped her arms tighter at the thought of him dead, she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

“Strip” the man repeated. Her eyes looked down at the floor and with shaking hands she gripped the bottom of her tank top and flung it over her head, dropping it to the floor. The men in front of her had smirks on their faces, but all Renée could think was the traumatic events.

She hesitantly pushed her jeans down and kicked them in front of her, keeping her underwear on she cradled her arms again.

“Those too” they said. Renée harshly closed her eyes, hoping they wouldn’t have said it. Daryl struggled against the men again as he saw her strip down against her will. The men stared at her try and cover herself up and took her clothes from her.

“Have fun” they laughed as they closed the door and plunged her into darkness, she found solace in herself crying, as she heard them strip Daryl down next door. She heard them beat him up a little before the door closed on him too, noting the jingling of the keys possibly meaning the doors were locked.   
  


Her back met the cold wall and she slid down in the corner, bringing her knees to her chest, she tried to push away the memories of the last time she was trapped naked in a cold, dark room.

_The only light was a small bulb flickering, it was the only sense that they would give to her when she was tied to the radiator. The room was messy and cold, the hard concrete beneath her sent a chill into her body and was extremely rough, making it uncomfortable to move too much. There were a scrunched up blanket next to her which she could sometimes use for warmth or a pillow, but other than that, she was trapped._

The situation she was in at moment very much mimicked her kidnapping and she couldn’t help but breathe a little heavier, thinking that any moment that same man was going to open the door. It wasn’t so much the sexual assault Renée even feared, it was being left in the room afterwards having been violated and left with her own thoughts. Back then, given the chance she probably would have ended it all.

All aspects of time went out the window as Renée kept her eyes open, afraid to close them most of the time. The crying had stopped, but she felt herself going deeper.

The door opened but she was so lost in herself that she hadn’t even registered it herself, she was sat in the far corner away from the door. She didn’t look at the person, she didn’t hear them and she didn’t really want to.

“Renée” a voice called her name, it was deep, gravelly, familiar. Hey eyes slowly looked up and saw Negan’s tall frame leaning against the door frame, the bat he’d called Lucille held loosely in his hand. His eyes were stoic and she couldn’t read his expression exactly, his eyes were following her body for any signs of extra bruising, but couldn’t find any. But he wasn’t happy with his the saviours who had bought her here after he expressed she shouldn’t be imprisoned. But he found her cowering away and naked.

He sighed when he knew she wasn’t going to talk, turning to the men responsible he held a charismatic but terrifying grin, they merely collapsed under his authority with clear looks of fear on their faces.

He chuckled darkly, “You guys seriously fucked up here” he flashed a smile but twirled Lucille around in his hands, making them flinch, “This lady here, I told you to take her somewhere safe, did I not?”

The men didn’t reply as Negan leaned in, directly intruding their comfort zones.

“Did you enjoy it…when she took off her clothes…when she was scared” he asked them, their eyes were making the effort to not look into his and they still said nothing. Negan didn’t care, their fate was already sealed. Negan raised his head and smiled at Simon,

“Shoot them”

As soon as he turned his back to the men being dragged away screaming, his expression completely changed. He returned to the doorway, finding her in the same position as he left her. She was staring into space, her knees covering her breasts, she looked like she was shivering from the cold. Negan was handing a soft blanket by Doctor Carson and he walked towards her small form, kneeling beside her he touched her shoulder with his hand and she jumped at his touch.

She looked up to him, her eyes telling of her emotions, she looked angry but exhausted.

“Did they do anything to you?” he asked, he looked completely serious and as if a much worse fate would await them if they did. But she shook her head, her eyes still on his. He nodded softly and wrapped the blanket around her, shielding her nakedness. She pulled it across her, similar the last moment she’d shared with Negan, his eyes rested on the same marks on her body.

She was lead by Negan and a doctor to the office, was sat on the bed and looked around as if she were lost. But her eyes landed on Negan but immediately averted, a more sad look on her face now. Negan felt the heavy feeling of guilt in his chest and turned around to leave, the tension in the air also leaving with him.

“I’m Doctor Carson, I’ll be taking care of you today” he said as he prepared some of his syringes and tools,

“Renée…” she replied, the man smiled,

“Nice to meet you, Renée” he paused, pulling her left arm out and quickly sticking the needle in her vein, she flinched and whimpered at the feeling but it quickly left, “Could you just lay on your side for me”

Slowly, she lowered herself on the bed and removed the blanket covering her side. The doctor looked over the reddened and bruised area, his fingers brushing against it lightly, resulting in a whimper from Renée.

“Sorry…I’m gonna have to feel it to see if some ribs are broken. Stay with me” both of his hands laid on the bruise and felt around her ribs, making Renée cry out with the pain, tears pricking at her eyes. After a few minutes of him feeling the bones underneath her thin skin, he grabbed some bandages,

  
“Doesn’t feel broken, just maybe a little fractured. They’ll heal in time, you just need to rest. Sit up for me” he helped Renée to a sitting position as he started to wrap the bandages around her chest.

“Negan seems to like you” Renée rolled her eyes, not feeling the need to reply, “Maybe he’ll make you one of his wives” he said. Renée furrowed her brows, turning to face the man.

“Run that by me again” she said, a hint of anger in her voice.

“His wives. He has like six of them. No doubt he’ll ask you as well” Doctor Carson smiled awkwardly and Renée smiled angrily, shaking her head at the new person Negan had become. He was going to fucking get it.

Doctor Carson finished the bandages and handed some clothes to Renée, “I’ll leave so you can get dressed, Negan will be with you shortly”

Renée sighed at the prospect of seeing him once again. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t really want to see him, but what choice did she have, by the looks of it, he was the leader of this whole thing. No doubt it was impressive, but what wasn’t impressive was his attitude.

Sure, he had no intention of imprisoning her in the cell for the night and of hurting her. But she knew what stance he was going to have on the blame she was going to push onto him. Renée thought for a moment whether or not she should tell Daryl the whole story, but she pushed it aside as she got dressed into the new clothes. It was a grey shirt and black jeans, nothing too fancy, but did the job.

She traced the place where she’d been injected by the needle, now covered with a small plaster, a small blob of blood rose to the surface. She heard the door open behind her and could immediately feel the anger rise inside her, she knew it was him.

“Boy am I glad to see you, doll” he laughed as he walked towards her, Renée pushed herself off the bed and turned to Negan, “Thought I’d never see you agai—”

Negan’s words were interrupted with a sharp and quick smack across his face, he sighed and looked back at Renée, her eyes were glazed over with tears but mostly she looked angry.

“I deserved that”

“Fuck yeah you did” she replied, her body erupting with anger, “Who the fuck do you think you are, Negan.  **Six** wives, are you shitting me?” she pushed her harsh words at him, but he absorbed them with little effort.

“You better watch what you say to me and how the fuck you say it, doll” he stepped towards her, attempting to intimidate her by invading her comfort zone which he did often, but she didn’t budge. Her eyes were always on his,

“What are you gonna do, bash my brains out?” she said, “Fucking pathetic” she shook her head, letting a few of her tears fall down her face, thinking about the last time she saw Negan only bought her emotions to the surface. Negan felt the guilt in him again,

“Renée, your people killed mine, I couldn’t let them get away scot free” he said, she looked back at Negan, confused.

“What?”

He furrowed his brows, “You didn’t know?” he asked, she shook her head slowly, “Your people came into one of my outposts, killed those men in their sleep”

Renée sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was something she wasn’t even involved it, let alone informed of.

“I didn’t know about that” she rested her hands on her arms, averting her gaze while Negan stared at her. In his eyes, her frame expectedly hadn’t changed at all, but her attitude had changed completely, he figured she must have been through a lot since the apocalypse. It reminded him of the night of their date, it was obviously hanging over both of their minds.

“Renée, we need to talk” he said lowly, she hated to admit it to herself but she had missed the sound of his voice. She looked over at him and there was no anger in her eyes this time, they were softer and in some strange way, Negan felt the familiar attraction he’d felt before.

“About what” she replied, he took a deep breath, trying not to get lost in her soft green iris’.

“What happened” he asked, the words hung in the air and circled around Renée. Of course, he didn’t know what had happened to her after she went missing. She closed her eyes tightly, the tears forming again in her eyes at the memories and having to tell him.

“It’s a…long story, Negan” she answered with sad eyes.

“Doll, I’ve got all fucking day”

She smiled at his foul language, that hadn’t changed in the man. Renée sighed,

  
“Got a drink?”

The corners of his lips rose into a smirk and she had a sad smile on her face as they both walked to Negan’s room. Renée’s heart began to pound faster and faster in her chest the closer they got, afraid and yet happy that the truth would be revealed.

 


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

_Renée swirled the white wine around in her glass, watching the bubbles pop and smelling the aroma beaming off of it. Through the glass, there was an empty seat and had been empty for hours. She was actually a little disappointed in herself that she’d stayed this long, with the window of hope slowly but surely getting smaller and smaller. She drank the rest of the wine and set the glass down gently, smoothing her dress down._

_She had gone all out for this dinner date, her hair was done up in a messy updo and she had more dramatic makeup on, which for her dramatic meant a little eyeliner. The dress rested on her shoulders gracefully and clung to her body, exaggerating her hips and curves all the way to her knees, with black heels on her feet._

_Renée sighed, pushing back the feelings of sadness that Negan had not turned up to their date he was so looking forward to, she honestly felt humiliated. She turned over her phone and saw the time, almost midnight, but no messages like she had hoped. Shaking her head, she rose from her chair with her bag and paid for whatever she’d had, just one bottle of white wine and left sadly. She felt a stray tear make its way down her face as she walked out, feeling as if everybody had known she was stood up._

_“Hey there” someone said, but she ignored them. But as she had expected he attempted to follow her,_

_“Hey, stop. Want a ride home?” he asked again, she looked up at him with furrowed brows and rejected his offer,_

_“Leave me alone” she warned lowly, the man backed away, but stared at her as she walked away. A smirk lingering on his lips at the plan hidden away in his mind._

_Renée dialled Negan’s number and calmed her breathing as it rang. Of course, he didn’t pick up but she decided to leave a voicemail,_

_“Negan…” she said, but it came out more a whimper as her crying worsened. She inhaled deeply as she tried to be more assertive, “…you could have just told me…told me you didn’t want to see me. Why would you do that…? Why would you just leave me there…Well fuck you, Negan. I never want to see you again”_

_Sniffling once more she hung up the phone. Negan was sat on his bed, listening in real time to her leaving the message and he couldn’t help but feel guilty now that he’d done it._   
  


_It wasn’t even on purpose either. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to love again after…Lucille._

_He heard her cries over the phone die out as she hung up the phone and the sensation of something being very wrong settled in his stomach, he couldn’t quite explain the feeling. But knowing something was going to happen, he felt the sense of dread thinking of seeing her at the school the next day._

_But when Negan walked into the staff room, not seeing her sat at the usual table. More often than not, she’d be there with a cup of tea delicately held in her fingers, writing something with her other hand. But she wasn’t there and Negan immediately grew worried_ _, he turned to one of her co-workers and asked about her absence. The woman merely shrugged with a worried expression,_

_“She usually texts me if she’s ill but I haven’t heard anything from her, sorry Negan”_

_This furthered his worry even more, he even asked everybody he could._

_But nobody knew where Renée had been…or gone._

_After a week, the police became involved and due to her phone being found at her home with ties to Negan, he became the one they were interested in. Willingly, he handed over his phone, told them everything about their relationship; but without any proof or evidence that he’d done anything wrong, her disappearance was swept under the rug._

_Then the inevitable shit hit the fan._

* * *

 

Negan opened the door to his bedroom, where there were two sofas facing each other over a table, he allowed Renée to enter first and she inspected every aspect of the room. There were ornaments on his shelves and the comfiest looking bedding, it almost looked like a home but what would she expect from the leader. She sat down on one of the sofas and Negan joined her on the opposite one, immediately pouring two glasses of some brown liquid he already had set on the table.

Renée watched as he poured them, but his eyes flickered up to see her face, she looked like she was going to be sick with the anticipation of talking to Negan about the past. He pushed one of the glasses towards Renée and she smiled slightly,

“Whiskey, huh” she said, placing the drink to her lips. Negan chuckled through his nose, remembering that night with Renée. She leaned back in the seat and sipped it again, watching as Negan did the same, his hazel eyes looked over at her as she played with the glass, tapping her fingernails against it.

“I imagine you want to know, don’t you” she asked, her eyes looked up at his. Reluctantly, he nodded his head, which made Renée nod reluctantly as well. She downed her glass and placed it on the table again for him to refill, which he did. She rubbed her finger over the brim of the glass and looked distantly away from Negan, but his eyes never left her. He patiently waited for her to say something.

“On the night of our date, when you didn’t turn up. I went home and drank a little too much, cried way too much” there was a pause between each sentence, as if she struggled to say it without imagining it, “Then I felt an arm around my throat and I blacked out…that’s the night I went missing”

Negan swallowed, obviously finding it difficult to reminisce about the past. He was uncomfortable with how matter of factly Renée was saying these things,

“I woke up…naked in a shack or something and I was tied up”

Negan’s grip around his glass tightened as he heard the story, her voice began cracking with emotions just thinking about it.

 

“There was a man who came in, I’d seen him earlier that night after I walked out the restaurant…he claimed to be a friend of yours”

Renée joined eyes with Negan, her eyes glazed over a little with tears.

“That was the first time he raped me”

Negan’s body was frozen in place, he felt the sinking feeling in his stomach and the guilt rise up with it. He felt his grip tighten and Renée must have noticed it as her eyes flickered to his grip on the glass, but he remained calm and listened to her, running his hands over his beard. He couldn’t explain the amount of anger in his body, he wanted to tear his whole room apart, but he remained stable.

“And he continued to do so, several times a day…every day”

Negan couldn’t look at her anymore he was so angry, he couldn’t take the guilt and the notion that he had secondarily caused this situation. Quickly, he threw his now empty glass to the floor, making Renée jump slightly as it shattered and skidded across the floor. He was breathing heavily, ignoring the fact that he’d scared her with his quick motions; he stood up quickly and paced around in circles for a few seconds.

“Fucking fuck!” he exclaimed to himself, Renée stayed in her seat and allowed him to let out whatever anger he had inside of him.

“There’s more…” she eventually said. Negan looked over at her and sat down in his place, but sat restlessly with elbows rested on his knees.

“Around six months in, to my knowledge anyway…I got pregnant” her voice cracked at the end of the word and she bit her lip, looking away from Negan to the window. All of a sudden, the tears started rolling down her face and she wiped them away quickly, thinking of the times where she very much wanted children made her unbelievably sad. Negan looked over at her, his face softening as her emotions ran high; he always hated seeing people cry, especially whom he cared for.

“He knocked me out one day and cut the baby…and my ovaries out”

Negan felt his blood run cold, not expecting that to be the next chapter of the story at all.

“I woke up…and my baby was right there” she began crying again, her voice breaking on the words. She looked over at Negan who was regarding her intently, feeling nothing but sympathy for her.

“I could pick it up in just my palm it was so small…I remember just screaming and crying…

But he didn’t care, why would he? I was bleeding everywhere and he still raped me…

You don’t know pain like it”

Renée went to pour more into her glass and bought it to her lips, swallowing at least half of the glass. Her cheeks were red not only from the alcohol, but the tears as well.

“Then all  _this_ happened and in order to save him he gave me a gun and set me free…I made him kneel” there were a tonal change in Renée’s voice and Negan noticed as he looked back up at her, her eyes were still glazed over but her expression was stoic and almost powerful looking. It was clear that a lot had happened even since that horrific time in her life, but she relayed this experience in particular with a confidence and power in her voice. As if she enjoyed it.

“I made him kneel, I made him beg for his life…as if he actually thought I’d give him the mercy. I shot him through the chest…I couldn’t go through what I did and give him a quick death…”

“I left, I don’t know how long I was alone for before I met Rick and Daryl”

“You mean the asshole that did that shit to your face?” he said unexpectedly, Renée nodded sadly, looking down at her drink.

“Renée…I-I don’t know what the fuck to say” he said, she just shrugged,

“There’s nothing you can say, Negan. You couldn’t have known”

He leaned forward and grasped her hand with both of his, bringing them forward to him, “I’m so fucking sorry, Renée, I couldn’t protect you and what I did was a shitty thing to do”

She shook her head, “But why, Negan. You could have just told me…”

He was silent for a few seconds, looking down almost shamefully, “I know, I know I could’ve…but I was fucking afraid”

“Afraid?” she furrowed her brows.

He was finding it hard to articulate the words in his mind. Negan had always thought of himself as a confident, woman magnet; but this was a clear oxymoron of what he thought, “I can’t say I loved you because…I don’t know if I’m capable…but I was afraid to pursue that”

Renée pulled her hand away from Negan and set it in her lap.

“Whether you loved me or not, or still do, there is no excuse, Negan. You of all people should know that”

Negan looked hardly hurt by her words and actions, almost as if expecting her reaction. She stood up from her seat and set the glass on the table,

“Besides, you have six wives I heard, I think you hardly need me” she turned her back to Negan.

“How the fuck do you know about that”

“Oh please, the first thing the doctor said to me was if I was gonna be your next pick” she turned to him now, eyes burning with anger sleeping on the surface.

“Fucking fuck” he cursed to himself, “it’s not like that”

“You don’t need to feed me your petty excuses, Negan. You’re not winning me over” she folded her arms.

  
He stood up and confronted the woman, arguing a case that would never win.

“I’m not the fucking bad guy here”

“What do you expect me to do, Negan! You killed my friend, you imprisoned the man I love and after all these years now you tell me you were too fucking afraid to love. All these fucking excuses!” she shouted in his face, pushing against his chest which made the expression on his face turn serious.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Negan. Did you just expect me to forget all of that and fuck you the minute I saw you. Well good fucking luck with that, go fuck one of your wives”

She began to walk away when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, she struggled against his grip as his fingers curled all around her small wrists.

“You better fucking watch how you talk to me. I’m the leader here and even you, doll, ain’t allowed to talk to me like that”

She snatched her hand away from him and leaned closer, “I’d like to see you fucking try, Negan. After all that’s happened to me, I’d like to see what you can do”

He narrowed his eyes at her, now aware he was fighting a losing battle. His words were just words, with her he had no intention of putting them into action. Although he wouldn’t say it out loud, he felt at fault for the bad things that had happened. As did she.

She walked away from him, slamming the door behind her as she left.

 _I’m getting out of this fucking hellhole,_ she thought to herself, trying to memorise the path to the cells to see Daryl. In that moment she never wanted to see Negan ever again.

“Hey! You can’t go that way!” a voice said, but she ignored it and kept walking.

“Hey!” a man grabbed her arm and she silently attempted to pull away but was unable to escape his grasp, “You can’t go down there”

“Why the fuck not”

In her peripheral she saw the tall figure of Negan walk towards them, “We’ve got a room set up for you, doll”

“I need to see Daryl” she replied, her eyes burning into Negan’s.

“Yeah that ain’t gonna fucking happen” he replied, a smirk plastered across his face, but it was all for the reputation.

“Take her to her room” he ordered the man. Renée stared at him as she was guided to her room, feeling similar to a baby at this point.

As she entered the room, the door closed behind her and she was left alone. Her eyes scanned the room, there was a single bed in the corner with some dark blue covers draped over them and a small wardrobe in the other corner. She went to open the wardrobe and found mostly neutral looking clothes similar to her own style.

Renée pushed shirt after shirt along the rail until one item of clothing caught her eye. Her fingers brushed against the soft fabric as she held it in her hand, she felt her eyes cloud with tears. It was the cardigan she’d always wear for her teaching job, she knew because on the inside of the tag she’d sewn her name in there. She felt a tear roll down her cheek.

All the efforts in forgetting the past had completely backfired when she’d reunited with Negan. It seemed inescapable.

“I kept it with me when the police searched your house” she heard a voice from the doorway and looked over to find it was Negan. His bat rested over his shoulder, Renée quickly wiped the tears from underneath her eyes, pretty much ignoring his presence.

“Was there anything else” she asked, holding the clothing to her chest.

He nodded and pointed to the draw and Renée hesitantly opened it to find a framed picture, her old wallet and her keys. All things that in this world she would no longer need, but she let out a sad laugh as she saw them. She picked up the frame and looked into the picture, it was her graduation picture, 22 years old. Her hair was chest length and curled at the bottom, she had a big smile on her face as she wore her black graduation cap and gown.

She remembered a lot of her friends were taking these photos with their parents, their siblings, loved ones. All of the things that at the time Renée didn’t have. She smiled sadly, her finger wiping a line of dust in the photo. Her wallet was the same as she’d left it, her university ID as well as $45. Her keys to her car, god knows where that hunk of junk was now.

“Why are they in here” she asked.

Negan shrugged, “What can I fuckin say, I refused to believe you were gone”

“You didn’t just…keep a room though surely”

“No, nobody comes in here”

She felt the tears come again at the memories and she heard Negan sigh.

“Doll, why are you crying?”

“It’s just…I never think about things like this” she shook her head, “I try to forget”

Negan looked down at the ground, he’d never understand the amount of pain that she could go through.

“How did you not…go crazy?” he asked. She looked up at him,

“What do you mean?”

“Having that done to you for all that time”

“You can say it, Negan”

“I don’t really want to say it, doll”

“I can’t escape the fact that I was raped”

He flinched even at the word, god how he hated it. Not only the word but the incentive. And to think that it happened to his dearest friend who he’d never admit to loving physically hurt him.

“And I don’t know…I’m a very different person than what I was, maybe that’s the punishment. A lot has happened since then that’s changed me as well. I’ve killed people Negan…”

“We all have”

“No” she said shortly, “Not because I had to. Makes me just as much a monster as you” she said to him, all he could do was nod. He could have killed all the people he has mercilessly, but he murdered them in a brutal way, because he  _enjoyed_ it.

“As much as I’m enjoying this little chit chat, I need to go to bed” she said, almost word for word what she had said to him many years ago. It made Negan smile, some things never changed after all.

“Night, doll”

“Goodnight, Negan”

Once he had left, she removed her clothes in front of the mirror and was left in her bra and underwear. She looked over herself in her mirror, her body used to be something that was fragile and clean but now when she looked at herself, all she saw were the deep indents of scars and bruises. The one on her face was almost gone now and only a faint red colour was left behind, but the rest of her body carried her experiences with her.

She climbed into bed in her underwear not finding any sort of sleepwear, pulling the covers up she sighed as she closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

She kept her eyes to the ground but not necessarily looking down, her eyes were cloudy with tears of fear, but she kept her cries in as well as making her expression look as if she was not afraid. She saw his legs pass in front of her and her fingernails dug into the ground, the dirt collecting underneath them and creating small divots in the dirt. She saw him swinging around the bat that had barbed wire wrapped around it, that smile spread across his face. Renée looked up to see his face, he was looking down at Rick who was seated next to her.

 

_Negan’s eyes flickered over to the woman knelt beside Rick and he brushed his hand over his beard, taking her in._

_“What do we have here” he said, Renée closed her eyes, knowing that he was looking at her. Negan smiled, catching his tongue between his teeth as he knelt before her, his eyes were looking straight at her but he noticed that hers were skimming right past him. He placed the bat under her chin and lifted it slightly, making her eyes meet his._

_Her expression only made Negan smile more, the hatred and anger shown noticeably on her face. He noticed the fire in her eyes, he always liked the fiery kinds of women._

_“Come on, doll…you could at least cry a little” he smiled at her, narrowing his eyes, “Nah…you don’t cry do you? Women like you usually don’t…but I’ll break you. I can fucking promise you that, doll”_

_She narrowed her eyes at the man as he stood back up, eyeing every person. Deciding which one to kill._

_“I simply cannot decide” she huffed and a breath of relief flooded Renée as he said this, momentarily thinking he mightn’t kill anybody. Her eyes were stuck on him, his actions; he grinned widely at the people before him._

_“I got an idea”_

_He walked up to Rick and pointed the bat in his face, “Eenie”_

_Waves of fear washed over everybody despite trying to put on a brave face, there was fear hidden under the layer of pride._

_“Meenie”_

_Renée was too scared to look over at Daryl, who was giving the eye to Negan as he passed everyone._

_“Miney”_

_“Mo”_

_“Catch”_

_“A tiger”_

_“By”_

_“His toe”_

_“If” he pointed the bat in Renée’s face, but she refused to raise her eyes up to him._

_“He hollers”_

_“Let him go” he smiled. A stern look crossing his face now, almost amused._

_“My mother”_

_“Told me”_

_“To pick”_

_“The very”_

_“Best”_

_“One”_

_“And **you** ”_

_“Are”_

_“It”_

_Renée shook as she saw his boots had landed in front of her, her eyes flicked upwards to see the end of the bat was in her face. Her gaze dragged slowly down his barbed wire bat to see him smiling at the end, but his grin was influenced by evil and the pleasure he derived from seeing her in fear._

_She breathed harshly through her nose, staring at him with anger and tears in her eyes._

_“Shame to kill such a fucking beauty but what can I say, I’m a man of my word”_

_Renée scowled at Negan, straightening up her body to see him more clearly, “You’ll never break me…”_

_Negan smiled, both of his hands wrapped around the end of his bat, she could hear the sound of his tightened palms on the wood. He shook his head, hearing enough and simply wanting to teach the group a lesson._

_Renée closed her eyes, “Never” she mumbled before the first strike hit her on the top of the head. The blood poured from her head and down the side of her face, her dark hair now slicked with red, sticky blood. She fell forward with the first hit, a pulsing, unpleasant heat emitting from her head. She felt a trail of blood gather in her eyebrow before looking back up, her unsteady body swaying a little. Her eyes met Negan’s, a small smile on her face,_

_“Ne…never…”_

_Negan frowned at the woman’s retaliation and swung the bat sideways, her head landed on the ground and she didn’t have time to look up before more swings came down on her. She could hear the muffled cries of the group, watching her face disappear after each hit._

_Daryl watched as the unrecognisable body he once loved became more and more distorted and bloody._

* * *

Renée sat up in her bed quickly, a small but loud shriek coming from her mouth. Her eyes looked around her room quickly, temporarily forgetting where she was. At the realisation, she laid a hand on her chest to calm her breathing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

Her bedroom door suddenly opened and a half panicked Negan stood in the doorway. Renée pulled the bedsheets up past her chest, remembering that she had gone to sleep in her underwear. She looked him in his eyes for a moment before he finally spoke,

“Did something fucking happen? Jesus, I heard you scream or something” Negan leaned against the doorframe, watching as Renée shifted nervously. He shoved his hands into the pockets of the robe he’d thrown on, she could see he wasn’t wearing anything else because a large portion of his chest was on show. It seemed even when he was by himself he exuded confidence. Renée shook her head,

“No, just a nightmare” she smiled awkwardly, rubbing her hands on her arms nervously as she looked away. Negan’s eyes drifted from the nape of her slender neck, where her hair was lying over one of her pale, milky shoulders; her arms were just as slender and he could just about make out the plump curve of her breasts, the rest was cut off from the black bra she had on.

He imagined what it would have been like to finally have her, what her body would look like underneath him. What sounds would tumble out of her mouth and what her naked form looked like. He couldn’t help but examine the thoughts that lingered in his mind, unable to stop his racing imagination.

“Negan…” a voice called out from behind him, Renée looked over and found two slender arms wrapped around his torso, the delicate fingers brushing against the skin on his chest. He looked over to find it was the wife he’d requested for the night, Renée’s eyes narrowed when she finally saw what the woman looked like.

She was short, not quite petite, but still slender. She had light brunette hair and striking blue eyes, not only that, but it was clear what kind of person she was by the smile on her face when she saw the other woman in the bed.

“Come back to me…” her voice was nasal and annoying, Renée rolled her eyes at the desperation in her voice. Like she was trying way too hard to be sexy.

It worked for Negan though as he turned to look at her and smiled slightly before waving his hand at her in a dismissing manner,

“Wait in my fucking room” he replied. With a less than impressed face, the woman gave a dirty look to Renée before doing what she was told to do. Renée looked over at Negan, who at this moment simply looked pissed off; she raised her eyebrows,

“Nice” she said sarcastically. Negan still admired what parts of her body he could see, a stoic expression on his face, “She one of your wives?”

He nodded wordlessly.

“You should probably get back to her then, seems she really has a thing for you” Renée replied, Negan huffed and closed the door softly behind him, making his way back to his room. He couldn’t shift the thought of Renée’s body from his mind, even when he saw his wife lying on the edge of the bed in his room.

The woman walked up to Negan, her fingers picking at the cloth hanging from his shoulders. Her mouth was speaking, but Negan wasn’t listening. With a gaze that looked like he wanted to kill, he ripped the clothes from the woman’s body and pinned her underneath his body. In certain angles he could almost pretend the woman was Renée.

He stripped himself down and quickly slammed in the woman below him effortlessly, earning surprised but welcomed moan from the woman below him. He closed his eyes as he thrusted into her, trying to drown the sound of her forced moans from his mind and replacing them with the thought of thrusting inside Renée. Thinking about what her moans would sound like and the way she’d arch her back at the feeling of hitting the right spot inside of her. The mere thought was bringing Negan closer and closer to the edge, uncaring of the actual woman below him.

_“Negan…” the woman’s voice moaned, but in his ecstasy he imagined Renée moaning his name._

Negan’s mouth hung open as he came closer to his high and when he did, he almost let her name slip past her lips, but stopped himself halfway. He lay next to the woman letting his hands rest behind his head; he ignored the woman as she got herself dressed and immediately left his room, her expression now seemed just disappointed. He pulled the covers to his waist and stared up to the ceiling.

Feeling completely empty, physically, mentally, even sexually.

 


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

I let the warm water roll off my head onto my shoulders. The small droplets of water made their way down my back and all over my body, enveloping me in warmth. I sighed contently, running my fingertips through my hair and down the strands that were thrown over my shoulder. The suds from my hair tumbled down my body and down the drain. Turning off the shower, I quickly wrapped a towel around my body and looked at myself in the mirror. I bought a brush to my long hair and combed out the tangles that had formed during my shower.

My hair hung flatly to my head and I now saw just how long it was as it now hung almost to my belly button. Shaking my head, I couldn’t keep it like this. So rummaging through the drawers of the bathroom I found a pair of scissors. Most likely not for hair but it would have to do. I remembered how short my hair was a few years ago and cut it just below my breasts, making sure the now blunt ends looked less artificial.

 

The bruise that was on my face was practically none existent now, there was only a bit of swelling and slight pain when I touched it.

I refused to look at myself any longer and decided to get dressed. I picked the clothes and laid them on the bed before me, my towel dropping to the floor. I slid on my underwear and was about to clasp on my bra before I heard the door behind me open.

I turned around to see Negan opening the door, his eyes rested very quickly on me before turning away again but not closing the door all the way.

“Fucking hell, Negan. Don’t you knock” I exclaimed to him, my hands going to cover my body. But that wasn’t where the embarrassment lay. He for sure, saw the scars littering my back. I sighed and threw on the rest of my clothes quickly,

“Sorry, doll” he said muffled from behind the door. I pulled the door open again and looked at him, his face was serious and stoic.

“Did you…cut your hair?” he asked carefully, I nodded slowly, “It looks like…”

 _How I used to look…_ is what he wanted to say, but the words never came out his mouth.

He cleared his throat, abandoning what he was going to say, “How dya sleep?”

“Not great, had to hear Miss Big O and you having a go at it last night” the way I said it was less than enthused, so I don’t understand why Negan smirked a little. But it wasn’t his usual shit eating grin, the expression underneath this smirk was still…dare I say hurt?

“Jealous, doll?”

“Not in the slightest, Negan. Anyway, what do you want”

“Sound a little fucking pleased to see me, doll”

“I would if you had any feeling at all for me” This was a lie, I knew he had some attraction for me as well as I had some for him as well. But if anything my attraction to him was residual from before, I never had any intentions of pursuing it.

“That’s where you’re fucking wrong, doll. I’ve always had feelings for you”

“Maybe you never did” I spat back at him. His expression changed and I attempted to shut the door, but his hand pushed it completely open and he slammed it behind him. I was startled at his sudden outburst of what I believed to be anger,

“Let’s get this fucking straight. You know goddamn well I can’t say that I  _love_ you, so why the fuck are you trying to make me feel guilty about it, huh”

Ok, now I was angry. Accusing me? Yeah fucking right.

“If you had any shred of feeling for me, Negan. You wouldn’t flaunt your whorish wives around in front of me!” I stepped up to him, challenging him.

Suddenly, his palm curled around my neck and he pushed me into the wall fairly forcefully. I could feel his breath on my face and I could barely react before he planted his lips on mine. I was frozen with surprise and for a few seconds, it felt nice to have him back on my lips. As if we were kissing in the supply closet all over again. His hand came up to behind my head, pulling me in further and I felt the warm sensation in my lower abdomen start to grow. When his body pressed into mine and when his hand glided over the mound of my breast, I didn’t feel in danger or even slightly afraid, but I pressed my palms against his chest and gently pushed him away. His lips left mine but I could tell he was disappointed it didn’t continue.

If I wasn’t dedicated to Daryl and I’s relationship, I probably would have let him, unfortunately.

I could feel my laboured breathing and the awkwardness between us, but I couldn’t deny myself it felt nice to have him with me like that.

“What happened to us, Renée…” he asked, I almost thought he was talking to himself, as his gaze strayed away from mine. I could feel the threatening sting to my eyes as they glazed over,

  
“We’re complicated people, Negan…”

He looked up at me again, “I don’t even fucking want them…my wives. Everytime I’m with them I think of you, even before you showed up on my fucking doorstep”

I sighed quietly, a feeling of sadness settled in my stomach. I felt for him, I really did.

“You wouldn’t want me anyway, Negan” It was my turn to look away from him now. I didn’t say it to make him feel guilty, I genuinely still felt the residual feelings of being  _broken_ and  _not a real woman._

He looked at my sympathetically and I quickly rubbed my eyes, making sure the tears didn’t fall.

“I need to see Daryl” I said quickly before he said anything else.

“That ain’t gonna fucking happen, doll”

“Whether you want me to or not, I will”

Negan seemed defeated in a way, “Do me a favour, doll” he opened the door to leave and looked back at me, “Rethink us, please”

And with that he was gone.

I don’t know why but I wanted him to stay, I wanted him to kiss me again. To be honest, maybe I wanted to do more. I know he had thought about it. But my mind went to Daryl. Sure I may have loved Negan or had thoughts about him, but the love I had for Daryl was different. I wanted him in every single way.

I wandered the halls of the Sanctuary for the cafeteria, looking for some kind of food to tide me over. I felt the presence of the packet of cigarettes I had in my back pocket and while I was outside, lit one when I’d placed in in my mouth. I watched the Saviours go about their business, looking over at me with hushed whispers. They’d probably heard rumours about me, but I ignored the looks I was getting from them.

A woman joined me outside, a cigarette between her lips and softly blowing out smoke. She was wearing a skimpy little black dress that ended at her knees and her soft strawberry blonde curls hung on her shoulders.

“You Negan’s new thing?” she asked. I raised my eyebrows at her curt words, stomping my cigarette out on the floor.

“I’m not Negan’s anything, you however I assume are part of his harem?” I asked, looking over at her. First impressions, she even had a bitchy face. She chuckled,

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Negan would never go for anyone like you anyway” she shrugged. I laughed to myself, oh the irony. She had no fucking clue.

“What’s so funny” she asked curtly at my laughter, throwing her cigarette on the floor.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,  _that’s_ what is so funny” I smiled. I could see her face getting angry,

“You think you’re better than us? At least Negan wants us. He probably left you behind you pathetic little thing”

I pulled out my knife from my sheath and placed it on her neck, pushing her body against the wall. I was still smiling, her face was shaken with fear at my boldness, she probably thought I’d kill her then and there. I was taller than her, as I was with most other women, which only added to my aura.

“I’m sorry, say that again. I didn’t quite hear you” I said mockingly. Her eyes were stuck on my knife, the blade resting on her olive skin.

“You wait til I tell Negan!” she shouted at me, attempting to make me back away.

  
I leaned it so I could whisper, “Go on, tell him, see what happens” My voice was laced with psychopathy and I could see she was getting more and more fidgety.

“Talk to me again, you won’t wake up tomorrow, understood?” I said, she didn’t nod or shake her head. I took the knife from her throat and sheathed it again and she wriggled to her escape, muttering a ‘freak’ as she left. No doubt she’d tell Negan, but I didn’t really care. It was clear he couldn’t give a shit about them.

Tonight was the night I got out of this place.

I waited until it got dark to attempt to sneak out. I threw my backpack over my shoulder, the possessions that Negan had found were stuffed inside. I ripped a page from a nearby notebook and sat to write down a message; I tapped the pen against my leg thinking about what to say.

As much as I tried to push it away, Negan was a huge part of my old life and because of that had influenced my new. I enjoyed his flirting and his company, and I hated that I wanted more of him. I hated the warm feeling I had just thinking about him kissing me and dominating me the way he had.

I pushed the thoughts away and touched the paper with my pen, pouring all my feelings out of my system. I felt ten tonnes lighter.

_Negan,_

_I’m sorry but I cannot stay here. The mere presence of you brings me back to a time that brings me a great deal of pain, but that is not your fault. What is your fault is what you did, even though I understand why you did. But what’s done is done and what happened after that was not your fault. I want you to know that._

_It’s been hard to admit to myself that I still have fairly deep feelings for you, even love. If I wasn’t in love and dedicated so whole-heartedly to Daryl, I probably would have made the mistake and let you into my life more._

_Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t mean it as a ‘mistake’ because it’s you. I mean it because of what you have now. You have six wives, you’ve moved on and I don’t blame you for that. You’ve been through a lot. But you don’t need me._

_I really wanted us to work out, I really did. Thinking back, I see myself leaving that last message for you and I don’t regret it. I was heartbroken and you needed to know that. Whether or not you love me or just want to be intimate with me, I’ll be heartbroken either way._

_I’m sorry, Negan._

_Renée_

I laid the paper down on my bed and stared at it for a solid minute before deciding to leave. Closing the door gently I looked over at his bedroom door, hearing muffled moans coming from it again. I sighed and turned my back to him. Fuck, I loved him but he sure could be a cunt sometimes.

Sneaking past the guards wasn’t too difficult given the experience I’d had in the past, sneaking past people in the dark was my forte now apparently. Eventually I got to the foyer where the same blonde guy from before was watching the door where Daryl most likely was. He was stuffing his face with some sort of sweet dessert so it was easy to time my steps and before soon I was staring at the back of his head. Quickly, I hooked my arm around his neck, keeping it tight against me as he immediately struggled.

He couldn’t shout due to the air leavings his lungs. Killing him wasn’t my intention though, he was Negan’s little bitch it seemed. His eyes looked up at me and I watched them close, hushing little shushes before his eyelids drooped and his body went limp. I laid his body on the floor and searched his body for the keys. I found the only ones he had and assumed that they were for the ‘cell’ which was pretty much a glorified room.

I quietly jiggled the keys around before swinging the door open, what I saw made my heart drop into my stomach. Daryl was cowered in a corner, hands pressed over his ears despite no loud sounds carrying in the room. He had a dirty jumpsuit on with a big makeshift ‘A’ on the front, his hair was greasy and I could barely see his features behind the dirt and muck. A stark contrast to my clean body and face.

His eyes studied me for a moment, he must have thought he was dreaming or going crazy. I crouched and stepped towards him and he seemed to cower back into his corner,

“Daryl” my accent seemed to bring him back to reality and he leaned towards me a little.

“Daryl we need to go, now” I urged. If anyone came in right now, we were dead. I held out my hand to him, “Now!”

As if he’d changed into a different person, he grabbed my hand and lead me out as if he knew the way out. He’d probably memorised it by now. We stuck to the wall, his hand still on mine, he stopped me when he heard two guardsmen down the hall. He was about to go and fight them when I pushed him back, I would use my gender to my advantage.

I mouthed a ‘let me’ before revealing myself to the two men, “Well, who’s this? New flesh?”

I thrust my fist right into his nose and kneed his groin before grabbing his collar and flinging him over my head and to the ground, the other lunged at me, but I rammed his head into the wall before he could do much to me. The first man lifted his head on the ground, blood pouring from his nose. He grimaced at me, ‘bitch’ he muttered before I clubbed him with my gun.

I looked up to see Daryl absolutely stock still, staring at me.

“That was weirdly sexy” he muttered. I laughed a little at his remark and ushered him to change into some new clothes and I couldn’t help but watch his body move around half naked. My eyes full of hunger, but then sorrow when I saw his bruises.

We both hurried outside where his motorbike was being kept and I pushed it from its parked place as Daryl kept watch.

“What the hell?” I immediately cocked my gun at the sound, but Daryl was closer. A larger man held his hands up and Daryl gave him a look over. He started babbling about how he’d just let us escape and not tell anyone and at the realisation that he clearly was too cowardly to draw on us I lowered my gun. But Daryl, with a pipe he’d secretly picked up, started beating the man to death.

I stepped away from Daryl…watching him bludgeon the man to death, much like how Negan had beaten our friends to death. I just watched him get his feelings out and realised he was just like me. I was the one doing horrific things before…but now, Daryl had completely unhinged. I just let him do it as well.

He dropped the crowbar, staring at the body below him for a moment before picking up the gun that the bigger guy had dropped. He checked how many bullets there were before turning to me, my expression of sympathy didn’t stir him.

“Daryl, get on we need to le—”

He walked to me quickly and pushed me against the wall, his hands cupping my face before he forced his own mouth on mine. At first I was surprised but eventually, he invited me in with his tongue and his hands roamed my body as I hung onto his shoulders.   
  
He dominated me for a moment before I got my words out, “We need…to go” I said. He quickly lead me by my hand and onto the back of his motorbike. He made sure my hands were around him before the engine roared to life, no doubt alerting anyone that we were escaping.

  
I looked behind me at the Sanctuary as we rode away, my hands connected around Daryl’s body. I didn’t regret anything. I wanted Daryl now more than I ever had before. I needed him.

I didn’t care where we went, just as long as we were together.


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

* * *

Negan sighed as he fell beside the wife he’d chosen that night. He was exhausted but unusually had not reached his climax like he would have, so he just stared at the ceiling, the sheets barely covering his lower half as the other side of the bed sank with his wife getting dressed. She hadn’t been satisfied either.

“That weird woman threatened me today” she suddenly said. Negan barely even shrugged,

“So?”

Her head whipped around to look at him, shocked at his response.

“She put a knife to my neck, Negan! She should be punished!”

He sighed again, looking over seriously at the dishevelled woman, “You must’a fucking said some shit then” he replied stiffly. She huffed and pulled something over her naked body, of which he was thoroughly disinterested in. The whole sexual encounter was to take his mind off Renée, but as usual he couldn’t help but think about her in the most intimate moments with his wives.

The door slammed shut and Negan propped himself of the bed, now feeling the guilt fester as Renée would have heard them. He pulled on some underwear and sweatpants and rifled through his draws, pushing all the clothing away he pulled out a photo frame. His eyes darted over the familiar faces until he landed on two in particular. It was the class of 2008, Renée had been working for the school for a few months and he had become good friends with her. It was a collective photograph of all the staff members.

Negan smiled as he saw her youthful face, she’d made Negan laugh before the picture was taken and so his face had formed into a large smile. He noticed Renée and how young she looked, so full of life; he felt sick knowing that she had her spirit broken through her disappearance and rapes. He laid the picture down in the drawer again, covering it with his clothes. He wished he still had his phone, but in a different way he was glad it was gone.  

He blinked the tears away and immediately set out to her room, as if he wasn’t controlling his own body. He gently knocked on the door, “Renée” he softly said, but heard no response, “Renée…doll…”

Not only did he hear no response, but he heard no movement in there. And it was curfew.

Grasping the doorknob he opened the door slowly and saw the impeccably tidy room, so tidy that nobody could have been here. He spotted the perfectly made bed and the single piece of paper that lay on top; furrowing his brows he picked the fragile piece of paper up and examined the beautifully written cursive.

He read to the very end, hoping that there would be more to it. But when he discovered there wasn’t he scrunched the paper angrily in his fist, a stern, angered and hurt look on his face. He groaned loudly, throwing the crumpled paper away. He was annoyed, betrayed almost. He felt the angered tears at his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Fuck’s sake, Renée..” he muttered. He’d let her fall out of his grasp once again, and because he was so careless to ignore her.

But of course he’d never admit to anyone else that it was his fault. His pride remained too large.

* * *

 

Renée felt the cold air hit her as she grasped Daryl’s body, she felt the warmth underneath her fingertips and yearned to feel more of it. She was half tempted to slide her fingers underneath his shirt for a mere touch but she kept her hands where they were. She laid her head against his shoulder and Daryl looked back for a moment, seeing her body near his.

She leaned up and spoke in his ear, his body leaning towards her, “Stop for a moment”

Daryl looked around for enemies, they’d been riding for an hour, anyone who was following would surely be gone by now. He slowed at the side of the road and kicked the stand down; he slid off his bike and looked back at Renée, standing in between her legs as she sat on the bike seat. Her eyes looked lovingly up at his and he responded by gliding his hands around her waist, pulling her clothed core to his, making her breath hitch.

She felt the way his clothed erection pressed into the lower portion of her body, her eyes watched his as his fingers slid into her hair and violently bought his lips to hers. Their mouths moved quickly and needingly. Renée fiddled with Daryl’s shirt and he took the hint and pushed it off of him, his attention returning immediately to Renée. His hands squeezed her breasts making Renée moan into his mouth, only adding to the growing erection pressing against her.

Daryl pulled her up harshly and pushed down her jeans, surprising her and eliciting an excited moan. Renée smiled excitedly, she wasn’t used to Daryl being intimate like this…it was violent and exciting…and she hated to admit that she loved it. She felt the cold air hit her intimate areas as he pushed down her underwear, quickly pushing her body over the seat of the motorbike. He wasted no time in shoving his bottoms down and grabbing her hips harshly, his fingers creating small red indents in her porcelain, clean skin.

Renée moaned out loudly in half-pain and half-pleasure as he shoved himself into her, relishing in her warmth. Immediately he began his quick pace, uncaring of the small increments of pain she was feeling, it was exciting. He was almost taking out his frustrations on her. He pulled her up from her position by her hair, another moan escaped her lips as she turned her head and kissed Daryl, his hands wandering her body.

He pushed her shirt up and hastily pulled the bra down, exposing her now hardened nippled to the cold night. At the new position, she felt him hit a spot repeatedly, making the fuzzy and tightening feeling in her abdomen grow more and more. But he didn’t stop, instead her fingers rubbed against her nipples, the other slipping down her body to her most intimate areas and pleasuring her there.

With all the stimulus, Renée cried out in pleasure, the tightening feeling destressing like a vice and all that was heard at the end were Daryl’s grunting sounds as he achieved his orgasm. He spilled inside of her, a new warm feeling entered Renée as her chest rose and fell with her laboured breaths. He held onto her for a while, placing kisses on the back of her neck as he pulled out of her.

As Daryl redressed, Renée turned round to look at him having put her clothes back together. Her hands rested on the side of his face and bought him into a passionate kiss again, he responded by wrapping his arms around her. She pulled away and smiled, examining every inch of his face.

“Missed you” she smiled. He gave a small smile, but it was something.

“Really, wouldn’ta guessed” he replied, referring to their intimacy. Renée looked down, a pink blush spreading across her face, “You look good with a smile…”

“You look good fucking me” she smirked, her breath tracing his lips.

“Ya sure ya the same Renée?” he asked jokingly. She looked into his eyes almost seriously, her thumbs rubbing his face softly,

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again…” she said as if she were going to cry, Daryl’s face softened at her sudden emotions.

“Did they do somethin’ to ya?” he asked seriously, his body protectively holding hers, “How do ya know Negan?”

 

She looked up at him with sadness in her eyes and Daryl felt the pang of jealousy in his chest, “No they didn’t do anything…it’s a long story, Daryl”

“Were you two…y’know…” he asked cautiously, Renée bit her lip and nodded her head slowly,

“But not in the way you think”

“How then?” he couldn’t help the jealousy that dripped from every word, but he regretted it once he saw the expression on her face.

“We…had a thing for each other but never…”

  
Daryl nodded, not needing to hear the rest of the story, “Don’t matter, tell me later”

Renée slid onto the motorbike with Daryl and lifted her feet as he started the engine, her hands once again going around his torso to hold onto him. She knew she’d have to tell him sooner or later, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified to do it.

She made a mental promise in her head, that she would never  _ever_ leave Daryl again.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

I saw the night slowly turn into a cloudy, blue patchy day while Daryl and I rode to what he called ‘The Hilltop’. I held him in my arms as he rode us there, my mind racing with nervous thoughts. How would I tell Daryl about me and Negan? Daryl would obviously want to know that, but it still made me nervous. That part of my past was never something I thought would come up…or that I’d have to explain.

 

So my mind was rudely awakened by Daryl halting his bike and I withdrew my hands from around him and hopped off the seat. In front of me were two tall gates with high walls made of wood either side, they were slowly opening and right in the middle I saw the familiar face of Maggie.

 

My heart raced in my chest and her eyes landed on mine when she was hugging Daryl, she looked well.

With tears clouding my eyes I accepted her hug, she was not judgemental about what happened that night. I loved that about Maggie, she wasn’t judgemental.

She looked at me and smiled, “Good to see ya” she said, her southern accent was strong to my ears, as I hadn’t heard her voice in a while.

My arms were still resting on hers as we smiled at each other, “Maggie…how’re you, how’s the baby?” I asked hurriedly, she looked so small you would almost guess she wasn’t pregnant. It made me nervous.

“We’re both fine, don’t worry” she answered, I nodded, relieved. She stepped back and beckoned myself and Daryl inside. It was very different to Alexandria, much more green and everyone looked semi-happy. Maggie walked us past the big house towards, what the English call, caravans; I couldn’t think of an American equivalent. Back home, people would give anything to go on holiday in these shitty metal death boxes.

She opened the door to one of them and turned to us, “You guys can sleep here, I’m the one next door if y’all need anythin’”

Daryl muttered a low ‘thanks’ and headed inside while I smiled at Maggie, “Thank you”

She leaned in close to me to whisper, “Ya need to talk? Without him? Come to my trailer”

Of course Maggie could read me like a book.

Once she left I joined Daryl inside, finding him slumped on the bed, a lit cigarette between his lips. He didn’t seem to acknowledge me entering and for once, I was nervous to be alone with him.

I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fiddling with my hands.

“Ya just gonna stand there?” he asked, looking at the ceiling and blowing smoke out his mouth. 

 

 

I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, my back facing him. I honestly didn’t want to tell him.

I felt the bed fall with his movements, his warm hand landed on my shoulder and I turned to his face to see him holding his cigarette to me. I took it wordlessly and took a long drag out of it, letting the toxic air circulate through my body. I blew the air out my mouth, feeling Daryl’s gaze on me.

He took the hair that fell over my chest in his hand and swept it away from my neck, he leaned in to kiss my skin there. And I felt the warmth of his skin on mine, it felt right.

“Ya wanna talk?” he asked.

“Well I know you have questions” I turned to look at him, giving his cigarette back to him. I felt the need to look away from the intensity of his gaze, but I couldn’t help but look into his blue eyes, the ones that I’d missed so much.

“Nah, just worried ‘bout ya”

I smiled and rested my hand on his, rubbing the surface of his skin with my finger softly.

“Me and Negan were…a thing that never really went anywhere” I started. Daryl was listening intently, “We were teachers and Negan had asked me out on a date. Obviously, I was…interested I guess. So I waited…and waited and waited. And he…didn’t turn up” at this comment, I felt Daryl tense up a little. Probably in anger.

“So I went home but…I don’t know, someone must have been following me or…knew where I lived. And I got home, drank my sorrows away a little and that’s all I remember”

“Whaddya mean that’s all ya remember?”

I felt the tears brim at my eyes as I looked away from Daryl, “That was the night I was kidnapped…and—”

“Ya don’t gotta say it” he whispered and pulled me closer to him, his arms wrapped protectively around me as I felt the tears run down. Even though there were tears rolling down my face, I was smiling. I felt safe…and happy.

I felt one of his hands stroke my hair as he held me and I thought…that he was perfect. Even though he smokes, used foul language and had done questionably bad things in the past to me and not to me. He was perfect.

We stayed there for a while, until I noticed he was strangely quiet.

“What are you thinking?” the question on every woman’s mind.

It took him a while to muster up his answer, “Just…can’t stand thinking shit like that happened to ya” he paused before he carried on, carefully thinking about his words, “ From what ya say…sounds shitty and…unsettlin’. Ya too special to me to think that some asshole could do that to ya”

I smiled at his words. I appreciated what he said. But I wasn’t just a random woman that he targeted. He was  _following_ me. Not only that, but he was one of Negan’s friends. I imagine Negan told him about me.

“If that fucker was still alive…he’d be dealin’ wi’ me”

I smiled and turned to face him, tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ears, “And what  _would_ you do, Daryl Dixon”

He smiled a half smile, “I’d make their death slow…no-one hurts ya”

I felt his thumb trace circles on my face and then the warm sensation spread through my body. Tiredness. I hadn’t slept well since the line-up. Too much on my mind.

I believe he sensed how tired I was as he pulled me closer as he lay down. My head buried in his chest and his arms still protectively around me, his chin rested on top of my head. I couldn’t help but think there was something else on his mind, but before I knew it, I was already sound asleep.

 

* * *

 

_Daryl_

_I lazily opened my eyes at the foreign noises I was hearing. I stood up from the bed and cautiously walked through the bedroom, there were light blue sheets and brown décor. It was a nicely decorated home, but nowhere I’d seen before._

_I heard the muffled and quiet cries from the hallway and saw a flicker of a soft light swift inside the far room. I heard her say, ‘Shh…it’s ok…come here…”_

_Cautiously, I tip-toed through the hallway on the soft carpet. Not making any noise. I peered inside the room and smiled at the sight I saw. She was sat in a chair against the crib, holding the small bundle in her arms and the baby attached to her breast, suckling quietly and mumbling little baby sounds._

_She was smiling down at our child, her eyes on the baby’s. She was humming a little tune that I didn’t recognise, maybe some nursery rhyme from her hometown. She looked up and smiled at me across the room, ushering me to come over. I was almost afraid and I can’t think of a reason why._

_But when I looked at that baby, all my nervousness faded away. The baby looked up at me and I could see their icy blue eyes stare back with a little tuft of dark brown hair on the top of their head._

_I felt like I could cry at the sight of us. Parents._

* * *

 

Daryl woke softly, his eyes opened quickly and startled but not from the awakening of a nightmare. His eyes were brimmed slightly with tears at the dream he’d just had. But he smiled to himself as he saw the woman in his arms sleeping softly with quiet breaths, she was the most peaceful he’d ever seen her. She was at ease.

And as he felt her heartbeat thump against his own chest, he smiled. She felt alive.

He pulled her body closer to his and she remained still in his arms but stirred a little, a mumbled and sleepy moan vibrating through her chest. He smiled, placing a kiss on top of her head and smoothed down the flyaway hairs, tucking them behind her ear. Her eyes remained closed.

Just the feeling of her skin next to his. The quick-witted comments. Her sincere smile. Her laugh and the way her eyes crinkled up when she did. Her voice. Her body. Her confidence.

He thought himself mad as she lay beside him. Never thinking he’d ever win the love of a woman like her.

 


	40. Chapter Forty

_There was always darkness in the cold, unatmospheric room. There were no windows and only one door, where he would come up multiple times a day to rape me. Whenever I saw his shadow stretch across the cold, dark ground I felt my body tense before he had even done anything. Most times he carried a small rag to stuff into my mouth and a small rod to beat me with. But when he realised I was too broken to even scream out anymore, he abandoned the action and seemed to revel in the fact that I had accepted my fate._

_I truly believed that I was going to live out my days there. Raped every-day. And died._

_But he kept going and wouldn’t ever let me forget the pain._

_And I lay there on the ground, already having been beaten and raped once today. My bruises were numb as I was sprawled out on the ground. In my peripheral I saw the younger boy in the corner. He was shuffling around nervously, mumbling and crying to himself. He was clearly still a teenager it seemed, but it also seemed as if he thought he was going to get out of here._

_I heard the door behind me open and in walked him again. That cocky, smug grin plastered across his face, a weapon of sorts in his hand and a confident aura._

_I felt his hands flip my body over, but I was too exhausted to retaliate as I looked up to the ceiling. I cringed as I felt his rough hands on my body and pull me towards him._

_“Miss me, sweetheart?” he asked. He pushed my legs apart and fiddled with his belt buckle, all whilst looking down at me and smiling._

_As he pushed towards me, a small groan of pain left me which made him smile._

_His hand curled around my throat tightly as he violated me. So much so I felt as if I couldn’t breathe._

_And when he was done with me, he slapped my cheek to reward me, took my bucket that lay next to me and left laughing to himself._

_And I lay there for a while, feeling dirty. Then he spoke._

_“You know what that means, right?” he said to me. I didn’t look at him, but I could tell it was a look of judgement. Despite our situation we hadn’t liked each other and never found solace between us._

_I sighed. As much as we disliked each other he was right. They never took care of us. They barely even fed us. It was a luxury to have him changed our excrements out. There could only be one reason for it._

_He suspected I was pregnant._

_He’d placed a new one the morning before and taken it away today. I knew it was real._

_“I know…” I replied. I knew it myself already, I was pregnant. I’d been throwing up every day, the valuable food I’d been getting leaving my body the minute it had been put in there._

_“You can’t keep it” he said to me. I continued to stare at the ceiling._

_“I don’t think I have much choice…and as much as I’d like to have children, not so much in this situation. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s taken this long…”_

_He remained silent after I said this. I imagined he felt sorry for me. But I was finding it difficult to feel sorry for myself. I had been forced into a pregnancy and the making of a human I was supposed to love through my rapes, but I didn’t feel sorry for myself. I felt simply violated._

_Days later, he returned. But with no smug look on his face, but the usual weapon in his hand. I felt his hard boot kick my naked back and I jolted forward. I heard his angry, deep voice._

_“You little bitch”_

_He hit me over and over with the metal pipe in his hands. Sometimes I swear I heard my bones crack at the impact. He’d never let me pick my body up, he’d just beat me down again._

_He sat on top of me, his fingers wrapping round my neck he bought his face near mine. I saw the true anger in his features. Almost…betrayal._

_“Piece of shit” he delivered a sharp punch to my face, letting the blood drip from my lip and nose._

_“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you…getting yaself pregnant…ya gonna fuckin’ pay…”_

_The other man walked into the room with arms of equipment. Tubes, sharp knives and jugs. I knew immediately what might happen._

_“No…please…” I whimpered, protecting something I didn’t know if I should love._

_“Shut the fuck up!” a sharp slap across the face, I cried a little._

_He sat on top of my body, pulling my arms to my sides. I struggled, trying so hard to wriggle out of his grasp. I saw the boy in the corner look upon me with dread and fear._

_I saw the other man kneel beside me with the needle and the ominous liquid sat inside the syringe. I felt my heart beat faster with fear, the tears prick at my eyes and my lungs hurt with my laboured, terrified breaths._

_“P-please…” my voice came out a whisper, but he looked at me with sheer anger in his eyes. He was not in a merciful mood._

_My shaking  arm was held down by the man on top of me and I clenched my fists tightly as the needle neared my skin. The other man was not skilled in finding veins so the first entrance into my skin was messy and unskilled. I felt the incision become bigger and I cried out in pain as blood began to pool. The man’s grip on my arm was tighter still and his gaze was focussed on me, still angry._

_I felt the foreign liquid enter my body slowly and an eery, heavy feeling flooded my body._

_“Not enough, more” the man on top of me said. I felt my eyes become droopy._

_“I can’t it’s too dangerous—”_

_“Just do it!”_

_Without hesitation he plunged the same needle into my vein, stretching my skin around it. I couldn’t groan out in pain like before, the drugs had numbed my feelings just a little. He pumped the drugs so much into my body that before long, all I saw was the blissful darkness behind my eyelids._

_But it was only blissful because I was finally away from him._

_I didn’t see his face._

_But it was all shortlived._

_My eyes were heavy, so much so that when I woke I couldn’t open my eyes. I felt the pain come back to me immediately, it felt like fire._

_I kept groaning and moaning in pain before actually gathering the strength to open my eyes and when I did it was blurry._

_I saw the boy in the corner, looking over at me and cowering not at me, but something on me. I blinked slowly and felt a warm but at the same time cold sensation in my lower body. Nothing unusual for me to feel pain down there, but certainly strange._

_I tried propping myself up on my forearms and with a bit of struggle and pushing through my fiery pain, I managed. I slid my body back to the wall, taking the weight of my numb body off my arms. It was when I did this that I looked at my hands._

**_Blood._ **

****

_And lots of it._

_I was confused at first, not upset. And then I realised my bottom half was covered in it. Where I had slid my body to the wall had left a scraping mark of my own blood._

_I felt the panic rise in me. Then the pain. I opened my mouth but only a pained cry came out._

_I began to cry as I found more blood pouring out of my abdomen. Spilling from two large, deep slits in my skin. I felt the tears run down my face._

_Then I saw it._

_There was a small, pink mound of what looked like skin laid beside me. And I could tell immediately what it was. I made out its little head, arms and legs without being that close._

_With the tears running down my face, I scooped the baby up into my palms and held it there. I could see its tiny little eyes begin to form, even little fingers and toes. I knew immediately in my heart that I loved this child._

_I knew it was dead. But I held it against my heart as if expecting the little fetus to suckle. But it had been long dead by now._

_I continued to cry, my bloody hands held the small child there against my breast. I didn’t care that it was conceived within the bounds of my horrific rape. I knew I loved it._

_I looked down at the baby again, so small, so innocent._

_Its body covered in blood and skin that was so smooth, untouched, unbroken._

_I suddenly felt my stomach turn at the sight of the baby. I placed it down carefully and pulled my knees to my chest, turning away from the baby. I let my tears fall._

_The blood continued to pool at my feet._

_And I heard him come in again. I didn’t want to look at him. I just stared at my hands in my lap, the tears still wet on my cheeks. Clutching my arms, shaking, I must have seemed pathetic to this man._

_He knelt beside me, watching my crying face with a smirk._

_“It’s all we could do, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty li’l head about it. Your own goddamn fault being pregnant in the first place…did ya a favour”_

_I stayed quiet and it angered him, so he grabbed my face harshly and made me look at him. I dared not study the features of his face, it would make him more human. He felt anything but human._

_I felt his hard fingers squeeze my face tightly. He was still smirking but I could see the underlying anger still inside him. He’d cut my child out of me. I was broken now._

_“But that won’t happen again…” he said smiling, at first I understood that as a threat but he continued, “…you didn’t think I’d let you get pregnant again, did ya?”_

_He watched my shocked expression spread across my face and chuckled lowly._

_“You’re mine now…you can’t be pregnant” he said. I felt my tears form again as he kept laughing at me. He pulled my body to the floor and spread my legs, at the same time undoing his belt buckle. Playing with his newest toy that he’d formed himself._

_The pain made me cry, but nothing made me cry more than the fact that I could never have children again. I’d never be the woman I wanted to be._

_He pushed into my harshly, uncaring of my pain. His hands held onto my hips, digging his thumbs into the slits on my abdomen where he’d cut my insides out. I screamed in pain every time he did so. More blood kept coming out._

_So I just stared at the ceiling. Pain rushing through my body more and more. Before long I felt nothing, in my mind and body. Emptiness._

_He laughed when he was finished and slapped me around the face, degrading me more. As he left, I said nothing and did nothing._

_And I didn’t cry again._

 


	41. Chapter Forty-One

* * *

 

Renée opened her lazy eyes from her slumber, rather enjoyably finding herself pulled against Daryl, his arms protectively wrapped over her waist. She smiled, nudging in more to his body.

“Stop that” she heard him mumble tiredly, obviously stating he’d just woken up, “Does things to me…”

She smiled again, shifting her body to face him now. She pulled the covers over her chest to cover her nakedness, having stripped bare the night before. He lazily blinked at her with a lingering smile on his face.

“Mornin’…”

“Hey” she replied, her finger pushing a strand of hair from his face and resting on his cheek. The tips of her fingers brushed against his beard, something she’d never really concentrated on before as he hadn’t let it grow, so she let her palm rub against the rough surface.

“Sleep well?” she asked him, he smiled.

“Better with you…”

She slid her hand around his head and pulled him near her for a kiss, smiling behind it. Playfully, she bit his bottom lip and looked up at him.

“Je-sus, what’s wrong with ya, girl?” he asked teasingly. Renée shrugged her shoulders,

“Just happy is all”

Daryl lay on his back, one hand wrapped around Renée and the other resting on the back of his head.

“Listen, I’m…sorry about the other night…” Daryl suddenly said. Renée furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of what he was talking about. He shrugged, finding his words awkwardly, “When we were messin’ around on the bike, it…just felt wrong to treat ya that way…”

She raised her eyebrows, smiling in a teasing kind of way.

“Are you joking?” she asked. Daryl almost looked offended that she hadn’t taken the apology.

She scooted closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and her forehead resting on his. Daryl felt a chill tingle through his spine as her smirking face neared his, his heart elevating its beat slightly.

“I just…don’t want ya to feel like…it’s bringin’ back memories” he said slowly and carefully.

Renée smiled, “Daryl, you could never  **ever** make me feel like you were raping me. And you never will…What happened before that was for power and dominance…it was sick. What we do, is because I love you”

She saw his eyes crinkle up into a smile.

 

“Besides, Daryl…I want you to fuck me like that”

When she smiled, Daryl felt his breath get caught in his throat. His body immediately got intensely hot. He’d not had this feeling of being utterly speechless in a long time.

And just like that, all the guilt faded from his body and he was overcome by her.

Without even having to try, she straddled his lap, letting the covers fall from her body and showing herself to him clad in her black panties. She smiled at his reaction not only on his face, but on his body. She pushed his head up from his chin with her fingers,

“Eyes up here, sweetie” she said almost too innocently. Her fingers trailed from his face down his warm chest, following the trail of hair from his stomach down to his underwear. She impatiently rubbed her hand over his already hard member, her green eyes staring at his blue ones in complete lust and in control.

  
She rolled her hand over him slowly, watching as his eyes started to close slowly.

“I bet you’d like it wouldn’t you?…If we did that again…” she said slowly, stroking him through the thin cloth. She could feel the warmth of him and could hear his choppy breaths as he got more and more aroused.

She gave him a small smile, drawing him in. And he sat up and grabbed the small woman around her waist, his eyes on hers. She let out a sharp intake of breath in surprise,

“Oh sorry…am I annoying you?” she asked, smiling and making Daryl smile in return. His smile faded slowly after a while and his eyes looked away from hers. Renée furrowed her eyebrows in concern,

“What’s wrong?”

“Need to ask ya somethin’…” he mumbled quietly. Renée sighed in a semi-annoyed tone, but knew it was coming.

“Daryl, if this is about Negan—”

“Nah, it ain’t about ‘im”

Now she was confused. She figured that was the first thing on his mind. She wondered what else could possibly be there.

“Before ya came to Alexandria…I haven’t asked ya but…”

Renée immediately became distant as he said those words and Daryl felt it. She averted her eyes from his and clambered off of him to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling a shirt over her head to cover herself. She remained there with her back to Daryl, leaving him waiting.

“I should have known you’d have questions…”

He was quiet again for a while until she turned to look towards him. He thought she was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her.

“Are you sure you want to know?” she asked. Daryl nodded carefully.

Renée sighed, her mind dipping back into a previous version of herself.

“You won’t like the story, I can assure you of that. There was a man, his name doesn’t really matter anymore but, he was horrible and sick.

He was sexually abusing his sister if that gives you any impression on how sick he was.

When he took me from the forest after the prison I woke up with him in a room, I was tied down and tortured. He wanted to know where I came from, who I was with. But he was more interested in me, wanted to make me speak and tell him my name. I never did, so I just kept getting tortured. Those are the scars you see on my arms and stomach, he left more bruises than scars though.

He kept me in a dingy cell until I decided to co-operate. Obsessed with the idea of having my name, my identity. But I wouldn’t.

This was around the time I…sort of…lost hope” Renée looked over to Daryl, a guilt ridden look spread across his face. She smiled looking at the ground.

“Lost hope of finding you…I was convinced you’d given up on me too so I…guess I gave in.

I pretended to be somebody who was broken by him so much that…I nearly lost myself…I nearly lost what I’d given so much to protect.

I escaped, taunted him for a while and drowned him and his room in gasoline. Left the place in flames…I’ll never forget it…I’ll never forget how much I enjoyed it…

I enjoyed killing all the people he made me…does things to you. In the end I sort of did it for the pleasure, just to see their blood. I know…I sound fucking mental”

Daryl looked shocked at Renée, her gaze unmoving from the ground in shame.

“Ya ain’t a murderer”

Renée scoffed and let her green eyes meet his blue ones. She shrugged,

“We all are. That’s the beauty of it…we can ignore the problem if everyone else is doing it, right?” she asked, smiling but swallowing her shame as well, “Nobody is the good guy anymore, not Rick, not Negan, not me. Goodness lost its meaning a long time ago, Daryl”

Daryl couldn’t give her an answer and instead pondered on what she had said. She was right. Nobody was the good guy. In her eyes, everyone could try to act as they like, but in a world they lived in the notion of a normal individual had completely lost its integrity.

“Told you you wouldn’t like the story”

“Ya well I weren’t expectin’ a nice one”

Renée leaned forward and grasped his face gently in her hands, examining his clear blue eyes. There was a confused look in his eyes.

“I thought about you every day, you know…missed you…”

There was a long pause and Daryl’s hand rested over one of hers, his thumb rubbing her soft skin. He looked longingly at her, as if she were still gone. But her face was right here, staring back at him, he could hardly comprehend it.

“Do you see me any different?” she asked, her voice breaking on the question. Afraid of the answer Daryl might give.

He inhaled deeply, shaking his head.

“Why dya think I killed that guy back there? Cos I needed to? Nah, I was angry…

I’d do anythin’ to keep ya safe, ya know that? Cos o’ that I’ve had to do bad things…I see ya as a survivor, like the rest of us. Hell if anythin’ you’ve been through more shit than anyone else and it kills me to think any of it happened to ya”

Renée smiled sadly with tears in her eyes, his hands now cradling hers. Through her stuttered cries she managed to form a sentence,

“It was so hard…” she spoke, her voice breaking on every syllable, “…he made me look at it, Daryl…my baby…he r-raped me that same day, there was so much blood..” she looked down, avoiding his eyes. More tears falling from her eyes onto her legs as she took in hurried breaths, more cries spilling out her mouth.

 

Daryl pulled her in for a hug, pressing her head against his chest lovingly. Her tears felt wet on his chest but he didn’t mind it. He stroked her hair as he felt her erratic chest against his, still struggling to control her cries.

In his own imagination and all he’d been through, he couldn’t imagine the things she had been through. To have suffered such a violent and psychologically damaging portion of her life for one year, he couldn’t think of a more distressing time for her.

She was right to hate what happened and she was right to have come out the other side not the same person she used to be.

He could see even now, when she had killed people for the sheer excitement of it, that the memory still took its place inside her.

“I know, babygirl…I know” he placed a kiss to her temple as she calmed her cries.

“I-I just wish…I could give you what you want…” she managed under her breath. Daryl shook his head.

“Ya think I would love ya less cos ya can’t have kids?” he asked bluntly, Renée looked up at him, her cheeks still wet and tight from the tears previously fallen, “I fuckin’ love you. Nothin’ is gonna change that, ya hear me?”

Renée nodded slowly, a small, sad smile gracing her face.

“I fucking love you too” she said back, making the man opposite her smile. She raised her hand to wipe her tears away, now looking slightly embarrassed. Something that was uncommon for her to feel in front of him.

“Sorry…” she laughed embarrassed, “…look ugly when I cry, I know”

Instead of replying Daryl leaned in to place a passionate kiss on her lips, at first surprising Renée. But eventually she gave in to it and slipped her hand around his head to delve further and further into their pleasure. She fell on top of Daryl against the bed when she suddenly pulled away, leaving Daryl with a confused look on her face.

“What?” he furrowed his eyebrows. Renée simply gave a huffed laugh, her fingers trailing across his beard.

“I like this”

Daryl gave a small laugh back until she said something else, “How old are you supposed to be anyway?” she asked smiling.

“What kinda question’s that?” He asked, cocking his head. Renée shrugged,

“Just never asked”

  
“I never asked ya neither”

“Well…kind of lost track of time since all this shit went down. But if I had to guess by now I’d be 27 or 28 maybe” she shrugged again, “Now spill”

“Shit I dunno…maybe like 41”

Renée raised her eyebrows, making Daryl feel a bit embarrassed at her surprise.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that” he said defensively. Renée smiled in return and shook her head,

“No there’s not, besides…” she paused, leaning down near his face again, “…I like older men”

And she joined her lips with his again.

 


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

The wintery sunset was hovering over the horizon. Renée stared out at the red and yellow landscape by herself.

Days had gone by in this place Maggie called ‘The Hilltop’. Even so, Renée disliked it. Not like anywhere felt particularly like home but she did not like this place at all. The only saving grace being Daryl and Maggie’s presence.

Speaking of which, the short brown haired woman sat next to Renée on the bench, crossing her legs and looking out. Renée looked over at the other woman and smiled.

 

“Beautiful ain’t it…” Maggie said quietly while Renée replied with a smile and a nod.

“It is”

There was a quiet pause between the two before Renée decided to speak up.

“How is everything?”

Maggie merely shrugged, a small smile still lingering on her face, “As good as can be, I suppose”. Renée nodded. Obviously, it was still the apocalypse, Maggie was now without her lover with his child inside of her. Stupid to ask her for a nice answer.

“What about you?”

“What?”

Maggie leaned in smiling, “You and Daryl…” Renée mouthed an ‘oh’ understandingly before looking down bashfully, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“We’re fine…It’s just…difficult telling him everything”

Maggie nodded in understanding, “About?”

Renée sighed, “Maggie… I don’t want to bring this up to you—”

“I don’t blame ya, Renée. It’s clear ya knew him before all this. Won’t hate ya for that”

Renée reached over and placed her hand over the other woman’s, silently thanking her for her understanding. Maggie smiled back, rubbing her thumb over the other womans.

Their intimate moment was cut short when the floodlights near the gates lit up, blinding the two women for a moment. Renée squinted, raising a hand to attempt to cover her eyes from the stark white lights.

There was shouting that at first was not understandable and Renée and Maggie stood around for a moment before the rise of panic began in the both of them.

“The saviours are here! Open the gates!” they heard a distant and panicked voice shout.

The two women looked at one another before running in the other direction. Maggie to the basement and Renée to the trailer that she shared with Daryl; she had to warn him to hide.

But it was dark and she hadn’t had the time to memorise the path back to trailer, causing her to take more time in getting to Daryl.

And even so she was less than subtle about it as she burst into their trailer, finding him laying on the bed, twiddling a small knife in between his fingers.

He looked over at Renée, her hands on her knees, breathing heavily and more importantly unable to tell him anything.

“Jesus Renée, what’s wrong?” he asked, swinging his feet to land on the ground.

She took in a few breaths, “Ne…Negan…he….here…”

Daryl immediately sprung into action, knowing exactly where to go. The same place Maggie was hidden. He grabbed her arm and pulled her with him,

“Go…” she said, regaining her breath. Daryl looked back hurriedly in confusion, not having time to argue.

“Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout, come on!”

“You go…He’s gonna kill someone” she said.

There was a long pause between the two. But he knew she was right. But still hesitated.

“Hide and hide well” she warned before sauntering off in the direction she had come.

…

“Well…well…” Negan walked through the gates, Lucille draped over his black, leather shoulder as always and antagonising the people of the Hilltop, “Do I not get a hel-lo?”

Nobody spoke a word and the people around Negan kept their heads to the ground in fear.

Negan turned his wolf like smile towards Gregory, who looked less than excited for the Saviours’ surprise visit.

“Gregory, have you by chance had a couple o’ visitors come by the past few days?”

He stumbled over his words at first, making Negan smile wider at the apparent lie he was about to tell, “No…just you”

Negan almost looked amused at his response, his hand tightening around the handle of Lucille. He caught his tongue between his teeth as he looked around, not seeing the face he wanted to see.

“See, Gregory…I don’t believe you. In the middle of the goddamn night two lovebirds made off with one of my motorcycles…but not before killing fat fuckin’ Joe first. Not like I mind, shit, he was useless.

Nonetheless…I  _know_ they came this way. And Lucille here is fuckin’ thirsty and she’s got her eyes on  _you,_ Gregory”

Every word that came pouring out his mouth exuded confidence. His body language was invasive as he neared closer and closer to Gregory, Lucille swinging in his hand. Every single sentence was accompanied by a smile a laugh which tormented every person around him, insinuating he enjoyed what he was doing.

“Negan” he heard a voice distantly behind him and he slowly turned, a smile still visible on his face. It only widened when he saw the woman he’d been looking for standing within a few feet of him.

She had her arms crossed, her dark brunette hair falling in beachy waves over her breasts and her darker green eyes staring at him.

“There she is” he said, putting an emphasis on every word. He leaned over to Gregory, “See her? **We** used to know each other, but clearly she hates my fuckin’ guts now” he laughed to himself, but earned nothing from Renée as she turned her head away.

“But ain’t she a fuckin’ beauty?” Negan turned to Gregory, who merely nodded in agreement quickly. But his attention shifted straight back to the woman standing before him.

“It has been a hot minute, doll. May we have a moment alone?”

“No” she answered quickly. Negan raised his eyebrows bemused. Her fire had certainly not died out.

“Well shit, alright then. I know you’re not my biggest fan right now but I need to ask you a question, doll”

She looked at his cocky face, his smile still visible which only irritated Renée more.

“Where’s my good friend, Daryl?” he asked her. His body invading her personal space, but her face was stoic, still.

“I don’t know, Negan. You’re not still torturing him?”

He gave a low chuckle accompanied with a growl, “Daryl escaped. The same night you fuckin’ did, dollface. As much as I like you, doll, I do not tolerate lying”

Renée gripped her fists together, her anger seeping through. “I don’t know. Even if I did, why the hell would I tell you?”

He cocked his head to one side, inspecting her face. “Well my men are already scoping out the area, sweetheart—”

“ **Don’t** call me that” she warned, suddenly a lot more serious. He nodded, smirking.

“—Fine. If they find anyone they ain’t fuckin’ supposed to…I might have to  _punish_ you” his face was close to hers now, but she was unrelenting.

She smiled bemused, “In your dreams, Negan”

He narrowed his eyes, “Tell you what. Because I’m such a fuckin’ nice guy and I actually believe you. Instead of me bashing one of these assholes head in to satisfy my dear Lucille, how ‘bout you dance with me?”

She raised her eyebrows, “Dance with you?”

He nodded slowly, his pearly white teeth showing through, “Just a dance and I’ll never bother you again”

Renée looked at his outstretched hand and sighed to herself. Rather than encouraging him, she walked past him, ignoring his gesture, but silently agreeing to spare the bloodshed. But she heard him chuckle as she walked past him and the quiet steps he took following after her.

Once they were alone, she crossed her arms and turned around to face him. He stood there as confident as the day she met him, his bat still hung over his shoulder and that cocky grin on his face. While she looked over the features of his face, he did the same for her.

He admired her smooth looking skin, her naturally pink lips and her long wavy brunette hair that framed her face perfectly. She had prominent cheekbones and a nice, toned jawline. Not the typical pretty girl. One you know would put up a fight.

“This your idea of a date?” she asked sarcastically. He chuckled lowly at her sass, enjoying the juxtaposition between her and every other woman he’d met.

Gently, he laid Lucille on a nearby chair where the warm glow of a fire was blazing and crackling, filling the silence between them. She raised her eyebrows to him as he stepped towards her, the tension in the air only getting thicker.

She suddenly remembered how he had kissed her back at the Sanctuary, but as soon as the memory reared its head, she pushed it away, remembering Daryl hiding away.

“What can I say, doll. I’m a catch”

There was merely the rustling of the trees and the slow, quiet wind as their music. Wordlessly, Renée draped her hands over his shoulders, his hands lingering on her waist as they swayed to the natural music. Negan’s smile dropped as the demeanour of the moment changed. He had no reputation to maintain with her, so the cockiness drifted away.

“Are you going to ask me why I left?” she suddenly said, drawing him away from whatever thoughts were whirring around his head. He merely shrugged,

“Should I? I don’t think I need to fuckin’ guess” he replied. Renée’s eyes were averted from his, but she knew his eyes were always on her.

“Yeah I’d rather not listen to you fucking one of your wives again”

Instead of giving a cocky response like she had expected, Negan actually looked quite apologetic.

“Where’s Daryl?” he asked.

“Don’t know, I wasn’t the one who let him out”

“Don’t lie to me, doll”

She rolled her eyes at the man, “Even if I knew where he was Negan, why would I tell you?”

“You got a fair point there. But you did beat up three of my fuckin’ guards and leave without a trace, doll”

“They were in my way. I don’t think I could’ve stayed there a minute longer”

Had the couple not been swaying back and forth together, somebody would have thought they would dislike each other. But there was still a relatively thick tension hobering over them right now.

“I’m sorry” he suddenly said. Renée joined eyes with him, to find that his eyes were already on hers.

“Sorry?”

“I really felt something for you, doll. I really did. And I feel fuckin’ shitty for what I’ve done to you, even shittier to know the things that have happened to you. Lucille…” he paused in the middle of the sentence and sighed, “…you remind me of her more than you can fuckin’ think. She was strong, fiery. Just like you.

I can take care of you” his hands tightened around her waist and she felt him pull her body closer. Their faces now much closer to each other, she felt the warmth of his wide frame, “I can protect you”

Renée unexpectedly pulled his head down towards her, her hand cupping his nape as his lips landed softly on hers. They moved slowly with each other, their tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in perfect motion. He felt her soft lips against his, his facial hair rubbing slowly again her face. One of his hands vacated further around her waist, pulling her body flush with his, wanting the kiss to last forever.

Minutes seemed to pass before they seemed to part, breaths elevated and their eyes looking deeply into one another’s. Negan seemed to smile and leaned in to capture her lips once more in a smaller, chaste kiss.

He watched her chest rise and fall as they stayed in that position. Her prominent collarbones rising and falling with them in her black tank top, his eyes drifting ever so slightly to her visible cleavage.

“This is the last time, ain’t it doll?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She sighed, exasperated and looked up at him. Her green eyes catching the light from the fire making them appear warmer. She nodded slightly and Negan smiled, having already guessed so.

“I won’t be just another one of your wives, Negan…I’m happy”

“Happy with Daryl” he finished. She laughed through her nose, knowing he’d seen through her lie before.

“Yes”

Her hands fell from his neck and stopped over his chest, her fingers dragging over the leather there.

“I just need you to know” she said, to which he nodded in understanding. But neither of them plucked up the courage to say those three words they were both afraid to say, for different reasons. Mutually, they knew.

“I’m sorry” she said quietly, before drifting past him like a passing breeze and disappearing from Negan’s sight. He listened to her soft, quiet steps as she walked away from him. He daren’t even turn back to look at her, merely walking to Lucille and placing the barbed wire bat signaturely back on his shoulder, mind clouded with muted anger and a hint of arousal. He suddenly felt the need to kill.

 


	43. Chapter Forty-Three

I stood there, naked, letting the warm, soft water wash over my head and down my face. Drowning out the residual sounds around me as the water droplets echoed in the bathroom.

It was hardly as glamorous as the bathroom we had in Alexandria, but it was still far better than some.

I pulled my head from the water and ran my hands down my wet face, my hair slicked back over my head and slung over my shoulder.

 

I felt the warm, chaste kisses on my back and his wide, tall frame press up behind me. A small moan managed to escape me as he kissed further up to nip at my neck, his fingertips traced the deep scars on my back lovingly. They were darker and reflective compared to my pale small body, but his calloused hands continued to rub them gently.

 

I knew I was a horrible person. I had kissed Negan and had no intention of telling Daryl about it.

There were no excuses. I just needed to feel what it would have been like to be with Negan. It felt undeniably good to kiss him, even better to know that he still had something for me, despite not admittedly.

But I couldn’t escape Daryl.

I felt one of his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer to his chest, feeling his fully erect manhood at the same time press itself into my lower back. His other hand made its way gently around my neck, ever so slightly pressing against it, but not hard enough to hurt.

His lips were still making their way across my neck, covering every bit of skin.

It was moments like this that made me want to be his.

To have put away so many of my desires before I’d met him had resulted in a very active sexual life for me and Daryl. Not that I minded. He certainly didn’t seem to.

He pushed me against the wall of the shower, his hand now balancing himself on the wall next to my head. I felt his eyes rake over my naked body, his hands vacating down to my own most intimate areas.

He gave my ass a firm slap, making me jump slightly but letting a small moan escape. I could feel his erect dick slide against me, his hand coming up to press mine up against the wall. Gripping my fingers as if he would break them.

Taking me by surprise, he slid his cock inside of me effortlessly. Creating a deliciously warm feeling in my stomach and filling me up in a way I had come to enjoy thoroughly. From the slight pain game a groan out my mouth due to the water, but once he pulled all the way out and thrust into my once more, I felt my body ebb away into the pleasure.

I could hear him grunt with each hard thrust, only adding more to my pleasure knowing he was enjoying himself and before long he sped up, one hand pressing hard into my hip, the other keeping me pinned against the shower wall.

“Fuck…Daryl…” I moaned to him. He turned my face to him and kissed me harshly, still thrusting into me. I moaned into his mouth at the different positioning, hitting that sweet spot that he always did.

“Ah, shit…” he cursed, feeling himself come closer and closer to his peak. His thrusts were messy but still hard and merciless to my body.

He slid his hand again around my throat as he fucked me, squeezing tightly and restricting the air that got to my lungs. The pain and loss of air somehow made my body shake and made my orgasm peak a lot quicker and for a lot longer.

My body shook against his and my head was cradled against his shoulder as it rushed through me. His hand still firmly around my throat, a loud moan came out my mouth as he kept thrusting.

“Fuck, babygirl…” he managed as he slammed into my one more time, spilling his entirety into me. I felt the warm feeling fill me and run down my leg down the drain. Slowly, his hand retreated from my neck and faltered at my breasts, cupping my soft flesh in his hand.

I felt the air fill my lungs and immediately felt tired and worn out. He pulled out of me, his now satisfied dick hanging against his body, limp. I whimpered as he pulled out, feeling slightly sore.

When I turned to him, he smiled and cradled my face for a kiss. I moved my lips alongside his, enjoying the intimacy. As he pulled away, he brushed a strand of hair from my face with his thumb. I smiled at him, looking into his icy blue eyes, only appearing more striking when he smiled.

 

“Ya beautiful…” he murmured, I looked down, a heat rising to my cheeks.

“Stop it” I replied, emitting a small chuckle from him.

“Ya weren’t lyin’ when ya said ya liked it, huh”

“What?”

“Bein’ rough”

I pushed his chest playfully at his vulgar words. I bent down and picked up the bottle of shower gel, pointing the end at Daryl with my bottom lip between my teeth. He raised his eyebrows,

“Now, now”

I squirted the blue liquid all over his chest, which for some reason looked kinda hot.

I stepped towards him and rubbed the gel into his skin, my hands got bubbly and I spread it all over him to wash him.

He moaned internally as I spread the suds all over him. His eyes were now closed but they slowly and drowsily opened again, his eyes narrowing looking at me and my naked body.

He wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me flush against him. I laughed a little, still rubbing the suds in.

“Alright, alright, we just had sex. What’s got you so riled up?” I asked him, he merely smirked down at me.

“Just want ya”

“Hmm” is all I replied with, raising my eyebrows at him, the suds getting all over my chest. He took the shower gel from me and squeezed some into his hands.

“Your turn” he smirked.

Our shower ended a lot later than usual and I sighed contently as I ruffled my hair with the towel, slinging it over my shoulder as I pulled on my clothes.

I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled on my bra and pants. Could feel his eyes raking over all the scars on my back.

There had never been a moment where I’d forgotten about my scars. There were plenty of them and they weren’t small, but that wasn’t why. It was because of how I got them and how they made me feel.

Like memories they haunt me, but in the most permanent form they could conjure.

Daryl had them too, but fewer.

The most painful ones are the most painful to remember.

My fingers traced over the deep scars on my lower half, my skin slightly concaved in the pattern of the slits.

I remembered waking up, having the blood all over me and feeling empty. As if something were stolen from me.

My skin tremored as I felt his calloused fingertips glide up my arm to my shoulder, pulling my damp hair to the side to reveal my neck. His lips kissed at my neck softly, his other hand vacating to where my hands were preoccupied, grasping them gently.

I closed my eyes as I felt his breath on my body, his big manly hands glided over my scars.

When I opened my eyes again I looked into the mirror in front of me, seeing myself in my underwear with Daryl’s body pressed up against mine. His thumb hooked around my underwear at my hip, but did not intend on pulling them down.

I saw his eyes flicker up to the mirror as well, his hooded blue eyes staring at my face.

“Stop it” he said suddenly, but softly.

“Stop what?”

His fingers dipped against my scars.

“That. Ain’t nothin’ you can do”

I nodded, “I know”

Daryl seemed deflated by my answer, having not expected my sad reaction.

His eyes vacated to my back now, kissing the area between my shoulder blades.

I felt like a worse person at this point. I loved him, I knew I did and he was so good to me. We were both not perfect, that much was obvious. But deep down I knew that while I thought we were good for one another, we were hurting each other.

Daryl surprised me by lowering to his knees on the ground before me. I looked at him, but his gaze was on my body and nothing else. With his lips and with the scratchy feeling of his facial hair, he kissed the two dark scars covering my lower body. I couldn’t help the small smile that graced my face as he did this, his calloused hands making its way up my body, but his sole attention on my scars.

He felt my gaze on him and looked up. Slowly, he stood again so he was a head taller than me. One of his hands still hovering over my scars.

“These scars are what make us good for each other” he said. His other hand running over the patchy burn marks over my shoulders.

“Ya one hell of a fuckin’ woman”

I smiled at his strange compliment and placed my lips on his.

The afternoon was still young by the time I got dressed. Daryl had gone to speak to Sasha and I took one last look in the mirror before heading out, letting the warm sun hit my skin.

In the distance I saw Maggie, squatted by her lover’s grave, a solemn but accepted look on her face. I walked over to her and she clearly heard my footsteps as he rose, a watch in her hand.

“Hershel gave him this” she said without looking at me, running her thumb over the watch face.

“I’m sorry” I whispered, immediately feeling the hot pangs of guilt on my nape.

She shook her head and joined eyes with me, “It ain’t your fault and you know it”

I searched her eyes for some indication of a lie, but she was genuine. She had always been genuine. I felt tears well up in my eyes already, thinking about his body. I wasn’t even there…

“I feel responsible though…I kne-know Negan…” I struggled, a tear fell down my cheek. Maggie looked sympathetic.

“Like I said, ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

She was so good. She’d gone through so much but she was still so good. As a person, she would be the best mother I knew. It almost made me cry more to think about her child having to grow up without their father.

And the pit of dread in my stomach as I still believed I was to blame.

But at this moment, with her hands covering mine friendly, I was grateful that Maggie and her child were safe. She would be a model mother to that child and I was happy that she would never be burdened to lose a child.

“Open the gates!” I heard Sasha say from a distance. A shot of panic ran through me as I thought the Saviors had come to visit and pillage some poor soul.

But the lack of warning quickly supressed these fears.

Maggie’s hands slipped from mine without me knowing and she advanced before me, approaching the gates. At the same time, I felt a hand on my shoulder which momentarily made me jump.

I looked over and saw Daryl there, his face close to mine as I felt his hand rest on my hip. But his eyes were far from me and were solely focussed on the gates and who was walking towards them.

When my eyes followed his, I felt a cocktail of feelings in my stomach. I knew it as soon as I saw them.

At the front, leading as usual, there was Rick. His stance was authoritative and with purpose as he strolled towards Maggie. Michonne wasn’t too far behind him, with Rick’s son at her side, almost as tall as both of them. His signature Sherriff’s hat sat on top of his head. Behind him was Rosita, her eyes on Maggie protectively but also on just about everyone around, judging them with her icy stare. Then Tara, a woman I’d not really spoken to, looking distantly at the tall gates, following behind Michonne.

Almost instinctively, Rick wrapped his arms around Maggie, engulfing the small woman entirely in his embrace. Maggie did the same, looking as if she was finally at rest.  Everyone seemed to circle around the two leaders of the group, but I heard none of their conversation. Rick was focussed entirely on the woman in front of him, his hands protectively on her shoulders.

I felt Daryl leave my side and a falling feeling settled inside of me when I saw that Rick had noticed Daryl and they were drawn together almost immediately. Maggie hugged Michonne as Rick paused in front of Daryl, a small nod being the only exchange between the two men.

Before I’d known what they were about to say, Daryl had buried his head in Rick’s shoulder and the two men shared a short, needed hug. And I watched on, unable to really think anything else. Rick looked over Daryl’s shoulder as they departed and caught my eyes.

He looked relieved and I was surprised to see him walk straight up to me. And I was about to say something to him when he’d pulled me into a hug himself, his arms reaching across my back effortlessly, his chest pressed up against mine.

At first I hadn’t known what to do with my hands. But as I felt my body relax form the initial shock of being hugged, my arms rested on his shoulders. He seemed to really squeeze me in the hug, a muffled voice vibrating through my shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked. I merely nodded against his body, catching Daryl’s eye as he departed from Tara’s hug. There seemed to be a hint of something in his gaze when he saw Rick hugging me. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was jealously or surprise.

He pushed me away from him, but his hands were still on my shoulders. I gave him a small smile, “I’m fine, Rick”

“Can’t tell ya how sorry I am”

I shook my head, dismissing his apology. He smiled and nodded to me, turning to the followers behind him. No mention of Negan slipped by him.

He delivered a speech about starting a war with Negan. And the more he spoke, the worse I felt.

I couldn’t be responsible for Negan’s death. Besides, he wouldn’t die. He was Negan, he’d refuse to die.

And as I followed Rick to the big building, Daryl following behind me. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being too deeply involved with my feelings for Negan.

 


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

It was an understatement to say that Renée was concerned. Rick’s small group had turned up to the gates of the Hilltop just today and were already talking at Gregory, ordering an army to fight again the Saviours. She confined herself to the corner of the posh room, Gregory sat at his desk, speaking to Rick in a manner that was hardly appreciated.

They were arguing, that much was clear.

Gregory argued that he had simply done enough by housing Maggie, Sasha and Daryl and that he would not fight with them against Negan.

Whenever Negan’s name was mentioned, Renée with arms crossed would hold an emotionally confused look on her face that Daryl obviously noticed. Feeling conflicted for reasons that her lover would never know why.

She replayed the kiss in her head a couple of times a day since it happened and she knew she shouldn’t.

Just knowing now what it felt like, almost tortured her more now. She wanted both of them for different reasons and none justifiable by any other person.

She almost wondered if he felt a similar way about her. But from the way Negan had evolved, she doubted he ever did.

She looked up to see Daryl looking over his shoulder at her, giving him a small, disingenuous smile, her eyes immediately leaving his. She propped herself from the wall and walked over to place herself next to Daryl, half listening to what Gregory was saying.

When Daryl’s voice spoke up, Renée started to pay attention.

“What the hell, man? Ya either with us or ya ain’t. Ya sittin’ over there talkin’ out both sides of ya mouth”

Greogry ignored Daryl’s outburst and spoke to them like they were children. They left single file badmouthing him along the way. Renée followed behind Daryl taking all of it in, but not really looking as if she were listening. Eyes glued to the ground.

Outside there was a small party of residents, saying they wanted to fight. And Renée couldn’t stop her mind from thinking Maggie was wrong, they would all die if they tried to fight them.

The man with the long hair that Renée never got a chance to speak to before suggested visiting a man called ‘Ezekiel’ in a place called the Kingdom. Even the name screamed delusion to her.

Without a word spoken between them, Daryl merely nodded at Renée and they squeezed into a car with Rick and the long haired man, on the way to see Ezekiel. King Ezekiel.

 

* * *

 

Fuckety fuck fuck fuck.

Negan lay there. The sheets barely covering his lower half as he stared up to the ceiling, running a hand down his bearded face in utter annoyance.

He felt the bed dip on the other side as Frankie, the brunette shy wife, pulled her clothes back on, ignoring the man next to her. She stared at the floor in submission as she felt his eyes on her.

He merely sighed as she pushed herself off the bed, sitting on the sofa to pull her heels back on. She looked over at the man in the bed and how his mind was simply somewhere else. He’d never not finished before and at this first time experience he seemed aggravated.

“Stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that” he scolded without even having to look over at her. She gulped and hastily left, slamming the door a bit harsher than she would’ve liked behind her.

Immediately, Negan huffed in annoyance. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he pulled his underwear back on and hunched over. His mind a plethora of confusion.

He arrived back to the sanctuary mightily pissed off and decided to expel whatever frustrations he had on a wife he’d requested. Usually, sex with any of his wives would be over relatively quickly, to the wife’s relief.

Tonight was different. He found Renée’s name haunting the tip of his tongue and her face flashing through his mind during sex. Upon the realisation that it was indeed a less than enthusiastic Frankie, he couldn’t help but go completely soft. Leading him with the inability to cum.

What kind of man was he if he couldn’t cum, is what Negan thought to himself as he sat there, her face still flashing in his thoughts. Every contour of her features etched into his vision.

But he’d never admit how much she meant to him.

 

* * *

 

Fucking school dances were the bane of his life. He had to stand on the outskirts and watch a hundred odd horny teenagers dance awkwardly around the opposite sex. The music was anything but good and it was boring as sin.

His eyes glazed over the crowd, seeing other teachers stationed at different areas of the room, watching with arms crossed to see if the kids were behaving themselves. Another male teacher across the room gave Negan a nod in greeting and rather unwillingly Negan raised his eyebrows in return.

His expression changed when he saw Miss Williams, sat on the benches at the back of the room, burdened with the same job. Her foot was tapping ever so slightly to the beat of the music, her eyes hovering over the kids.

Before long, less and less teenagers were on the dance floor and the rest of the teachers started to dissipate along with them. The DJ that was stationed at the front of the dance floor, looked at the deserted plane and shook his head, switching from the current music to something the teachers were more familiar with.

‘Mr Blue Sky’ by Electric Light Orchestra hummed through the speakers and Renée looked at the confused teenagers amusedly, her foot tapping to the beat of the music.

A tall figure obscured the lights beside her and she looked to her side to find Negan stood there, not in his usual gym wear but in something a little more casual, having not been teaching today. He had dark jeans and a thin grey T-shirt, making her eyes divert strictly to his chest.

He had his hand stretched out in her direction and her eyes flicked bemused to that and back to his smug, gentlemanly smirk. Rolling her eyes ever so slightly, she rose from her seat and slipped her petite hand into his large ones. Their connected hangs hung beside them as she lead him to the dance floor.

The thought that this might be inappropriate for the students to see two teachers flirting with each other crossed through her mind. But they’d seen their looks throughout the months, they surely knew.

The end of the song was approaching and the couple swayed to the melody, their eyes glued to one another. Negan’s hands lingered around her waist while hers hovered over his shoulders.

Then ‘Stacey’s Mom’ came on and a chord had struck within the woman. She sang along, dragging Negan in for a dance with her. Though unenthusiastic about dancing, he admired how she moved to the music and how her skirt twirled when she spun.

At the end of that song, she gave one laugh and slumped against his chest. Looking up into his eyes she saw his smug, soft face. The smallest amount of facial hair surrounding his features made him look mature and all the more handsome. Without even realising, she rose her hand to rest on his face and tip toed up to place her lips on his. Despite the extra height from her heels and the face that she was a taller than average woman, he was still towering over her, the epitome of his confidence almost.

 

She felt his grip around her tighten as she kissed him, pulling her closer to his body, he could feel the heat radiating off the woman. She could feel how badly he wanted her by how he kissed her. He wanted to devour her, but not in the usual merely sexual way he was used to. He wanted her to be his.

When they pulled away, she merely smiled up at him through her eyelashes, knowing full well what she was doing to him.

He felt captivated by her in that moment. The way she looked at him sent a jolt through him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Truth be told, he was intimidated. Almost afraid.

And Renée knew she should’ve said the words to him then. But she’d wait until their date tomorrow to say it, then go wherever the night would take them.

She was afraid herself, never having trusted someone enough to have her completely.

 

* * *

 

Negan felt the guilt wash over him heavily.

He imagined her dancing there in front of him that night, miles of confidence and a heart of gold, with that mischievous look about her.

Completely destroyed in what he thought was his fault. He had abandoned her that night, allowing the man who’d defiled her for so long to simply snatch her away.

Flashes of her pain ripped through his mind. Unwanted images of her crying and defeated body sprawled out on the ground. He felt sick even thinking about it.

He wanted to have her here. Not even for sex, just here, under his protection.

He didn’t trust them to take care in her life. He didn’t trust her protection when he saw that bruise on her face and the guilty, beaten and defeated look she would always wear.

And he couldn’t help but think she’d have been better off with him, under his veil of power. With him as King and her as the Queen.

October 22nd, 2017 8:05pm the walking dead negan twd negan negan imagine negan smut negan the walking dead daryl the walking dead fic the walking dead imagine The Walking Dead daryl dixon daryl dixon fanfiction daryl dixon smut twd daryl dixon daryl dixon imagine


	45. Forty-Five

Renée’s head jittered on Daryl’s shoulder as she napped. A few times he looked over to see if she had woken up, but her eyes were still softly closed despite the bumpy ride. Her hair was draped over her other shoulder, tied loosely at her nape.

Daryl’s arm was instinctively resting along the back seat of the car, subconsciously capturing Renée in a protective stance.

The car suddenly came to a sudden stop, jolting the woman out of her peaceful nap. Eyes bleary, she sat up and rubbed her eyes with the pit of her hands. For a split second, Daryl had thought she would get makeup all over her face, but when she pulled her hands away, her face was still clean.

Daryl thought then how beautiful she had looked without anything on her face. Naturally flawless. She looked towards Daryl and as soon as her bright green eyes, reflected even lighter in the sunlight, had seen Daryl’s he blinked out of his haze. She half smiled at him looking at her and for a moment at her movements, his eyes drifted down to her low cut vest. The top having been caught on her bra strap, exposing more of her cleavage than she would have liked.

“Wait” he said quietly as she was about to get out the car. She furrowed her eyebrows for a second until his hands unwrapped her strap from the bra, pushing her top further towards her chest. She raised her eyebrow at him, smiled knowingly and left the car.

“What?” Daryl asked in protest to her reaction, but she ignored him, eyebrows still raised. Closing the door with a soft pat she looked around the area, mentally noting any details they would need should they have to escape.

She laid her hand on her machete placed safely at her side, ready to use it. In the distance she saw two shadows, but not of people. Squinting her eyes, she blocked out the arguing voice of her lover, clearly annoyed by what was being said. Renée backed up as the shadows came into the sun, revealing two people on horseback.

Daryl had stopped arguing by now and instead focussed attention on the approaching people, Renée felt his body behind hers, her hand still placed on her machete.

At this moment, Jesus was their only hope of getting into the place known as the Kingdom, Renée presumed he might have lived there before to have some sort of connection to this King Ezekiel.

“They’re alright” Jesus said. The two people on horseback had chest plates on and armour that covered their arms, knees and shoulders. She could see the way their shoulders dropped when they saw Jesus with the rest of the group, afraid of the threat of Saviours.

“Hand over your guns” they said authoritatively. Rick looked over at Daryl and shrugged, handing over the mere two guns that all the group had with them. Luckily, Renée got to keep her machete.

The trip into the Kingdom was a short one, but one that Renée was ready for. It was always nice to have a change of scenery. And a few weeks of being at the grey, moodless Sanctuary was enough to make her need some colour in her life.

And when the gates were opened, the whole group were struck by what they saw. There were so many people, children, ever so slightly older people as well. There were lush, green gardens with plump vegetables growing amongst the soft soil. There were children sat in a group looking up at what seemed to be a teacher, with smiles on their faces. A group of joggers sprinted past in a block of people.

Renée wasn’t so much impressed by the place as entranced by it. It was like an apocalypse never happened and this concerned her; if they wanted the Kingdom to fight with them, who was going to? Were they too used to this new world they’d created?

The group were lead into what seemed like a theatre, purple chairs lined up with the aisle down the middle. Renée followed behind Rick as he looked confusedly at the sight before him.

A man was sat on a throne of sorts, a tiger sauntering around him and three or so guards at either side, one who looked far too happy to be there. Renée barely looked at the man and at the tiger now perched on the edge of the stage, its eyes focussed on hers solely. It ruffled its own fur, jingling the chain around its neck, eyes coming to land once again on her.

A smirk ran across her face as the irritable tiger stared at her, its fur standing up on end as if to attack. Renée’s eyes glanced over to the man sat in the throne, thick, black dreadlocks ran down his chest and he held a powerful expression.

She watched their performance with little interest.

 

* * *

 

_Renée picked up her keys and tossed them carelessly in her purse, sighing, having to think about finding them later when she’d arrive at her front door._

_Pushing the clasp of the purse shut she pulled her thick, winter coat and dragged the heavy fabric over her shoulders, pushing her hands through the sleeves._

_Looking back, her classroom was dark and empty. Having just finished marking the students’ coursework and piled it neatly on her desk, her day had ended at the dead hour of 6 o’clock. The sky outside was already pitch black and the wintery nip crept through the windows._

_She flicked off the lights to the classroom and threw her purse strap over her shoulder, the sharp click of high heels the only sound that echoed through the corridor of the empty school. No other lights illuminated the path in front of her and she heard the evident shuffling of the janitor at the other end of the hall._

_The walk across the car park was a cold one and Renée had already wrapped her thick scarf around her neck by the time she reached the large, black car parked on the other end of the tarmac._

_Flinging the door open, she dropped inside the passenger seat and with a soft thwack of the door she turned to her right and saw that Negan had shrugged his winter coat off. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her cold, flushed face._

_“Aren’t you cold?”_

_He turned towards her finally, one eyebrow raised and Renée felt the warmth flood her body when his brown eyes landed on hers. He softly winked and shook his head,_

_“Nah, blasted the heating while you were takin’ your sweet time in there, doll”_

_It was her turn to shake her head now, turning her eyes away from him._

_“Thanks for waiting” she smiled to herself, pulling her gloves off her hands. As her bare hands were exposed, Negan’s came to rest on hers. His palms were hot and immediately added some warmth to her icy skin. Her eyes met his again._

_The pair felt the tension between them, it was undeniable. But before it thickened any further, Negan spoke lowly._

_“Shall we get goin’?”_

_She nodded softly, watching as his eyes lingered on her a sweet final moment before he drove out the car park._

* * *

 

“Renée”

Her head popped up and she saw Daryl before her.

“Jesus, girl where were ya” he asked. It was night time and Renée was stood at the window, her eyes unfocussed on the dark night outside and instead, daydreaming. She felt Daryl’s hands on her shoulders and his voice was low beside her ear.

She shook her head, “Nothing. Just thinking”

He huffed through his nose and walked away, perched on the edge of the bed, hands pressed together on his knees. She could feel his judgemental eyes on her.

“Ya should know by now, ya can’t bullshit me”

Renée turned to look at him, eyes getting more and more pissed off. She could feel her grip on her arms getting tighter.

She paced around the room, kicking her boots at each step.

“So what ya fuckin thinking about?” he asked. The woman only sighed in response, exasperated.

Every time she closed her eyes she imagined how happy she was before the world went to shit.

No…not even before that. Before she was taken away. Before the happiness was literally ripped form her life as if it were nothing. And she couldn’t help but think if it hadn’t happened she’d be in such a better place and that she could have been safer, with Negan.

His existence in her life again had resurfaced her memories and try as she might to supress them and tell herself that she loved Daryl, they wouldn’t sink to the bottom. Daryl had taught her to live after the trauma in her life…taught her to love.

But she did not want to fight Negan.

If only it were that simple to explain that to Daryl.

Her eyes met his again, but his weren’t any softer. They were inquisitive and sharp, almost intimidating.

“It’s not that easy, Daryl” she said quietly, still pacing.

“Lotta things ain’t easy, this ain’t one of em. S’like ya can’t tell me anything anymore” he argued. Renée stood still now, her eyes meeting him again. She bit her lip, thinking of her answer.

“I know if I tell you, you won’t like it”

“Don’t matter, just fuckin’ tell me”

“I don’t want to do this”

He squinted at her, “Do what”

Her eyes scanned the room for a moment but returned to him, “I don’t want to kill Negan”

There was a heavy silence before Daryl answered, “We’re all fighting against those assholes, like it or not. After what Negan did to ya, I’m gonna kill ‘im”

Renée’s eyes widened at his comment, her arms unfolded and falling to her side.

“After what  _Negan_ did? Did you forget what you did to me, Daryl.  _You_ left me by myself after Woodbury,  _you_ didn’t even  **look** for me after the prison fell.  _You_ hit me” she raised her finger to point at the man whose eyes were now more furious than ever, “You hurt the only person who will ever love you! And you expect me to fight with you!”

Daryl had had enough and rose to his feet, taking long strides over to Renée. She panicked, having seen the look on his face before and had backed herself into the corner of the room. Daryl’s wide body closed her in and she tried to squeeze out of the small space by sliding past him, but his hand had wrapped around her arm and pushed her further into the wall.

“Get the fuck off me Daryl, I swear to god” she warned, feeling his fingers dig into her skin. The look on his face was honestly scary,

“You’re treadin’ on some fine ice here” he warned lowly, but she rose her chin against him.

“You think I’m afraid?” she asked, her eyes glazed over with tears, but her expression was defiant.

“Then why ya cryin’” he taunted her, and Renée could hardly believe it was Daryl saying all this to her.

But before Daryl had seen her hand raise, she had slapped him hard across the face and he recoiled, stepping backwards to cradle his cheek with his hand.

“Doesn’t feel very nice, does it? To be talked down to…” she struggled, one tear running down her face.

From the look on his face, he looked as if he finally understood.

“I will shoot every single Saviour I see…but I will not shoot Negan” the defiance never left her face and she looked at Daryl proudly. He’d felt her pain, her humiliation and had found some new respect for his fiery lover.

He loved her for that. Her fire. And it had never left her, no matter what happened, it would never go away. Her eyes were still glazed as she glowered at him, his fingers tracing the burning skin on his cheek. But he wasn’t angry at her. How could he have been when he had done worse to her?

He didn’t even realised he was smirking until Renée spoke up again, “What the fuck is so funny?”

There was still the small smirk on his face, “I like this Renée”

Renée just stared at him and the two stood in silence for a moment before she started to shed her jacket.

“What ya doin’?”

She didn’t reply and instead pulled her shirt over her head and pushed her jeans down her legs, ripping her shoes off with them. She stood there in her underwear in front of him and looked at his expression, struggling to keep his eyes on hers she could see how he was getting flustered.

With the utmost confidence she strutted towards him, her eyes boring into his.

“Take off your clothes” she said stoic.

For a moment, he thought he mistook what she said and was stock still. But his hands found his buttons and fastenings and before long he was stood before her in his black boxers, anticipating what she’d do next.

Her eyes flicked down his body but rose back to join his gaze. She tapped her finger on his stomach and pushed gently. And that is all she had to do as he obeyed and sat down on the bed behind him, his eyes were still transfixed on the woman in front of him wearing her black lacy underwear as if she were a goddess. Like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Her hair was hanging thickly over her shoulder, the strands of black hair were drifting slowly with her breathing and Daryl couldn’t help but notice her milky, smooth skin moving with her. The smooth skin, despite the scars that she had gotten, was perfect. The two dark purple scars across her lower stomach were deep and dark, but because they were on her, they were perfect.

He looked up at her and felt his throat close up for a moment when she reached behind her to clip off her bra. She dropped the flimsy fabric on the floor and thumbed the top of her underwear, dragging the soft fabric down her legs.

  
She laid her palm on his chest and pushed him softly so he landed on the bed. She clambered on top of him and straddled his lap, feeling the hardness that he had contained in his boxers underneath her.

“It’s my turn” she said quietly as she took his erection in her palm and placed it below her. Daryl closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure as Renée lowered herself onto him until there was nothing left, feeling her warm, wet tightness around him.

He loved this side of her and often a side he never got to see. The dominant side. Their sex as of late was purely one sided and he knew it. He had always been the one to initiate the sex between them and she had always seemed uninterested.

It was like back in the prison, after Woodbury. She was still healing those wounds on her back and she had removed her bandages, revealing her wonderfully curved breasts underneath.

Usually, Daryl would grab her during their sex. But as Renée sped up her thrusts on top of him, all he could do was look at her, an uncontrollable pleasure across his features, feeling the tight sensation of an orgasm winding inside his body.

When he opened his eyes to look at her he saw that she was completely lost in it all. He heard her quiet, soft moans and the way her hand gently cupped her own breast, her other hand rubbing the bundle of nerves near where he was disappearing inside of her. Her hair bounced with her movements and he could only examine her in complete awe.

Her moans were needy and quicker as time went on, her hand movements only getting faster. Daryl felt his breath catch in his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, his dick pulsating inside of her, feeling suffocated by her. And he couldn’t help but stare at her form.

And he’d realised that for the first time in a long time, she’d felt sexy. She’d felt wanted and she’d felt powerful.

He felt his released coat in the inside of his lover and he heard her laboured breathing as she came down from her own high. She opened her eyes and looked at the man below her, a layer of sweat covering his chest.

She leaned down near his face, her green eyes joining his with a determined gaze.

“You’re mine” she said to him.

Daryl couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m yours”

 

* * *

 

_There was he bitter aroma of red wine hanging around her as she swirled the liquid around in her glass. He tapped her fingers on the table in front of her, her plate now empty and her belly now full. Her eyes flicked up to see Negan one the other side of the table, a bottle of beer placed carefully in his large hand, Renée admired his fingers and then joined his gaze again._

_He was leaning back in his chair, chin high up above her and regarding her. Her eyes lingered over the features of his soft face illuminated by the warm light, his hazel brown eyes, his thick beard and his slicked back black hair. Renée couldn’t help but wonder what his face would feel like in between her legs, what his peppered kisses would feel like on her skin._

_She took a sip from her glass and Negan watched as she swallowed the liquid, leaving a little bit in her glass when she’d placed it back down. Her slender fingers tapping against the stem of the glass._

_“Enjoy your dinner, doll?” he asked in his low gravelly voice, sending a rush through Renée that she’d rarely felt before meeting Negan. And she smiled at him, nodding slowly in return._

_“It was delicious”_

_She noticed that Negan was tapping his finger on the table as well, his gaze completely on her. Renée merely smiled, you were able to cut the sexual tension with a knife._

_Here in Negan’s house he had the woman he’d most wanted in a long time. Having flirted with her for over a year, the two had never gone past kissing and light touching. He wanted more of her, wanted to see more of her._

_He stared at the exposed skin by her collarbone and wondered what the body underneath the shirt would look like. He couldn’t help but envision her body in his mind, sometimes at random times in the day. Sometimes at the school, he’d just want to push her into the supply closet and have her._

_“How was yours?” she asked softly._

_He shrugged, his large shoulders gaining her attention for a moment. But he just sighed, smiling largely with his white teeth._

_“It was good…but…”_

_She furrowed her eyebrows in jest, “But?”_

_He leaned forward, eyes boring into her, almost undressing her with his eyes._

_“Daddy’s still hungry”_

_Renée stopped swirling her glass in her hand and merely stared at him, almost amused. She could see his eyes were darker, and his mood had changed. She caught her lip between her teeth and placed her glass back on the table, now empty._

_The next few minutes were a blur as the red wine finally fogged over Renée’s mind. She felt Negan crawl on top of her, her back meeting the soft mattress underneath. There was his hot breath on her neck, his small kisses down her chest._

_In her misty vision she recalled him throwing off his t-shirt and as much as she wanted to reach out and touch him, he had pinned her hands either side of her. His larger hands completely engulfing hers._

_Painfully slowly, Negan was pulling the soft fabric of her underwear down her freshly shaven legs, kissing her thighs as more of her skin was exposed to him. Hurriedly, she shed her bra and lay out on the bed completely naked, her clothes discarded to the floor._

_His hands immediately came to feel the soft mounds of flesh at her chest, his fingers tugging at the hardened pink nubs, making soft moans flow out of her mouth. Only adding more to Negan’s almost constrained erection concealed in his underwear._

_But at this moment, he didn’t care about the tightness, he simply wanted to taste her._

_With her hands tangled in the grey sheets and Negan’s hands gripping her waist tightly, she felt his hot, wet mouth on her most sensitive area. His tongue expertly found all of those places that sent cold shivers up her spine, making her head thrust back with the loud moans._

_And he moaned lowly, sending vibrations through her body, through her stomach and into her core. She felt the tightness in her body as he kept going and in the pleasure hadn’t realised that her hand had found its way through Negan’s black hair, keeping his mouth desperately on her womanhood. Aching for that release._

_In her drunken haze, she felt her orgasm rush through her body but that did not stop Negan. He enjoyed how she moved under him and kept devouring her for everything she had, his eyes gazing up at her beautiful expression, the expression of contentment. His tongue followed from her core to her innermost thighs, sending a dull but fulfilled type of pleasure._

_And Renée tugged at him again, bringing his mouth up to hers to taste him. And she devoured him just as much as he had to her. And when she had pulled away, she simply smiled at him and pushed him down onto the bed, her hands lingering on the obvious hardness in his boxers. And she couldn’t help but giggle at the surprised expression on his face, not expected to have been dominated like this by a woman._

_She sat up before him exposing the symmetrical curves of her breasts to him and giving a small smile, she whispered._

_  
“Now, it’s my turn”_

 


	46. Chapter Forty-Six

Renée felt the machine gun on her lap bounce with the uneven road and the stuttered bangs of the car, trying its best to smooth out the terrain below it. Her head resting on her fist, she stared out at the road in front of them, watching the same looking trees pass them by each second. Daryl’s hands were lazily resting against the wheel of the car, a lit cigarette hanging carelessly from his lips. Renée looked over at him when she smelled the rusty, heavy stench of cigarettes and glared at him playfully.

Leaning over she whipped the cigarette out his mouth and immediately he’d furrowed his eyebrows in mild annoyance, eyes glued onto her. She smiled up at him as she placed the thin stick between her lips, using her second and third finger to hold it she blew the smoke slowly from her mouth. The white smoke clouded her features for a moment before dissipating, her gaze settling back onto the scattered trees and its fragmented streams of sunlight glaring through them.

Daryl couldn’t help the smile that came across his face and he parked the car against a grassy bank and strung his crossbow over his back as he exited the car. Renée clipped a new magazine into her gun, the cigarette still between her lips, softly puffing out the toxic stream of smoke. She carried the large gun in her hand as she looked up, meeting Daryl’s eyes.

Pulling the cigarette away from her mouth, she smiled at him,

“What?” she asked. He shrugged a coy smile gracing his face. She sauntered up to him and leaned up to give him a short kiss and he tasted the smoky taste that was left behind on her soft lips. She had placed the cigarette into his mouth once again and he admired her.

  


Recently, she’d been wearing her hair down, slung over one shoulder as the winter months drifted by. She’d been wearing her favourite khaki jacket and had dark blue jeans, accompanied with her usual combat boots, he admired how she’d looked. How beautiful a woman could be with a machine gun in her grasp was astonishing to him.

 

“Shall we get going then?” she asked, leading Daryl into the woods. He followed shortly after her, grunting in agreement.

The journey hadn’t been particularly nice and the woods were swampy, damp and generally uncomfortable. But the two had come to rest against a large tree that had fallen across their path and Renée was setting up the sniper rifle to point at a particular spot metres and metres away.

Squinting her eye a little, four men came into her view.

“Ya know, I can shoot better than you” Daryl said quietly, watching as Renée was aiming, judging wind direction at the same time. She growled in annoyance as she could get the right positioning, Daryl merely smiled, aggravating her even more.

“Shut it” she said, repositioning her rifle. There was no way in hell they’d be able to tell where she was, but she didn’t want to push it.

“If ya havin’ trouble, I can do it for ya” he smiled, still smoking his cigarette from earlier, almost at the end of it.

“How bout…you shut up…and I kill these guys…” she replied, clearly trying to concentrate.

Seconds in silence went by and Renée waited for the golden moment. Two men lined up in front of each other perfectly, and with a squeeze of the trigger, the silent bullet ripped through both their skulls.

“Bingo…”

Daryl shook his head, “Still two left, clock’s tickin’”

“Shut uup”

With the two men shuffling around nervously, holding onto their gun for dear life, Renée drove two more bullets their way, leaving them motionless.

She smiled and placed the rifle down beside her, eyes meeting over at Daryl she raised her eyebrows.

“Sexy, right?” she said, packing the rifle parts away.

“Hmm, somethin’ like that”

“Wanna get their guns?” she asked. He nodded and took one more drag from his tiny cigarette before throwing it to one side.

Crossing the large field, Renée trailed behind her lover with the weird sense that something was definitely wrong. Something was…strange.

She recognised this place.

“Daryl” she called, he turned to face her, a questioned expression on his face.

“Yah?”

Her eyes scanned the area around her, certain plants were bigger, certain landscapes looked different. And Daryl became nervous at her silence and walked towards her,

“Where are we?…” she asked nervously. He looked curiously at his lover and shrugged.

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean like…state. Which state are we in right now”

He searched his mind for a moment, recalling a moment where they’d mentioned where exactly Alexandria was.

“I think Virginia”

Her eyes met his again, but it was a confused and panicked one. Her eyes scanned the land, searching for a particular something. He could see that she was shaking slightly, her fingers ever so slightly twitching against her gun, eyes just a little bit wider.

“Renée..?” he asked, but she had ignored him and broke into a sprint past him.

 

“Renée! Wait!” he shouted, running after her.

As she ran as fast as her long legs would take her, her eyes scanned the area panicked, almost as if she was seeing something she never wanted to see. A traumatic reminder.

She felt as if she wasn’t even processing the images before her and instead experiencing the flashing images and the feeling of pain coursing through her body. And she didn’t quite know how long she had been following the path she had until she was back in a dense, damp forested area, where the ground was soft and untrodden around a hardened area. An area where it was clear people had come to and from often.

And she stopped at the end of this path, her eyes focussed on the trial that had formed, not quite brave enough yet to raise her gaze to the sight she might see in front of her. She could feel the tightness in her chest and the churning feeling in her stomach, her hands slid down to her knees to steady her body, her head so dizzy she felt she might have fainted.

She heard footsteps hastily chase after her but she had known it was only Daryl and she could hear his frustrations in his heavy breaths.

“The fuck is wrong with ya, girl?” he said harshly, without realising what her mind had relived just now. She continued to breath heavily, keeled over. But not because of the running, because of all the memories pouring back into her head at an impressive pace.

He realised something was wrong when she was utterly speechless and leaned over to see her face, staring at the ground, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Hey…” he said more softly and she slowly collected herself and met his eyes with hers, tears still glazing her eyes and the droplets still falling down her face.

She opened her mouth to say something but the words never articulated and her eyes were looking all over, to the ground, submissive.

She closed her eyes, trying to collect herself a little. She threaded her hand inside Daryl’s and he accepted it gently but confusedly. Her hands were sweaty and it was clear that she was panicked.

And she looked over, down the trodden path and saw  _that_  place.

That place that held her deepest, darkest, most traumatic memories.

 


	47. Chapter Forty-Seven

It was exactly how she had remembered it.

It was small, dirty, decrepit. Unliveable some would have said.

But there she’d stayed…for so much of her life that she didn’t even know how long she was there for.

Her eyes met the small shack. With concrete walls and one unsightly metal door hung slightly open, her eyes were glazed with tears as the features of her nightmares became something very real. She had realised that the shack itself was actually very small, not even the size of the ground floor of a house. There was one window that was cracked at the bottom, with vines winding around the dirty, grey walls.

She took one cautious step towards the house, her breathing elevating ever so slightly.

Daryl placed his hand on her shoulder and she looked back at him, he looked both worried and confused, understandably so.

 

“Renée, the fuck is this?” he asked and she thought about her answer carefully.

She looked back to the shack one more time before she answered him, it seemed buried deep and dark into the shadows.

“This is where I was…” she said quietly, almost to herself.

She looked back at her lover, whose eyes had softened noticeably.

“…Where I was kept…”

He looked shocked and more than anything, weary to even be looking at the place as his eyes shifted to and from the building.

“We don’t gotta go in…ya don’t have to” he said, she shook her head softly, her eyes never leaving his. She stepped towards him and placed her hand into his, giving it a firm squeeze as a few tears pooled in her eyes.

“ **I** have to…” she said quietly.

She knew Daryl didn’t get it, she knew he wouldn’t have understood. He wouldn’t have gone back to his childhood home, that much was certain. But there were many nights, sleeping next to him, that she had woken in a sweat, the memories manifested into nightmares. And she would have to walk around to clear her mind before she could succumb to sleep again.

But she knew in her heart she had to make peace with her own mind.

She had to conquer this place.

So with her hand still in Daryl’s, she turned to the shack and walked towards it, her soft hand slipping away from his.

Every step she took towards the place felt heavier and she was struck with the most powerful déjà vu she’d possibly ever experienced. But it was in the darkest way possible that she felt this, she felt it so deep in her bones. And that feeling in the pit of her stomach returned, the scars on her stomach felt inflamed and they started to hurt again.

She stopped cautiously in front of the door and pushed against it with her hand, the door squeaked open slowly and she peered inside. At the noise of the door, a groan came from the other room and Renée’s hand immediately sat on her machete.

The inside of the place was just as filthy. The carpeted floor was green with bits of mud and leaves stuck to the fibres, the walls were covered in brown crap and what she saw at the end of the hallway was too familiar. The door was wide open and there was a hole in the middle of the door where the man had kicked it open multiple times, the sound of his boot kicking it open made her shiver when she thought about it.

 

Thinking of her past self being in that room…it just made her feel sick.

And with her hand firmly on her machete, she stood in the doorway. The same place where her attacker had once stood, she almost felt dirty. But she felt as if she had conquered his role already as she saw the moaning, groaning animated corpse with  **his** face.

 

She already felt her panic starting to grow as she saw his bloodied face, it clearly wasn’t  **him** anymore, but it had his face on it. The walker was on the ground, having been a lack of any stimulation to keep it occupied; but Renée was confused as to how it had been here all this time. It had to have been…at least three or four years at this point. Maybe this far away from civilisation it wasn’t out of the question.

She observed him for a while and the dead, white eyes were staring back at her. Its decaying, smelly body rose from the ground, feet dragging in front of each other, groaning towards her. She saw the bullet wound in his chest where she had shot him dead and she immediately felt the anger rise inside of her.

He was taller than her and was not particularly fat or thin when he was alive, but he had a very hateable face. Creepy almost. He had a disturbing confidence in him, something that he and Thomas had shared.

She unsheathed her machete and slashed her knife across his chest, his insides pouring out of his body. She felt the tears prick in her eyes again as she slashed him again and again and again, desperately wishing it would hurt him, as he had hurt her. And she cried as she did it, feeling the pain she’d kept up inside.

“Renée! Stop it!” she felt two large arms around her pulling her against his chest but she writhed, wanting to be set free.

“No! He…He fucking hurt me…” she said exhausted, calming down slightly. She was obviously emotionally traumatised and she desperately wanted revenge. But he was already dead.

“It ain’t gonna do nothin’!” he shouted back to her and at this she slowed to a halt, her head hung over, her tears now falling down her face. She cried loudly, with no attempt to hide her pains and before long the arms that held her back were hugging her. He pulled her chest against his and placed her head against his shoulder, letting her tears dampen his shirt, his fingers smoothed down her hair, calming her.

She grabbed at his chest, bunching up his shirt as she cried out.

She pulled away from him, her green, glassy eyes looking up to him and he placed his palms on either side of her face, cradling her.

“He…” she managed, weakly.

“I know…I know…”

“I-I just…wanna fucking hurt him…” he could see the conflicting emotions of anger and trauma battling one another in her mind.

“It’s not fair…” she shook her head, “…it’s not fair he got to die and I…I’m suffering…”

Each word was hard for Daryl to hear. Yes, she’d been suffering for so long and now he’d finally seen why. Until now, he hadn’t seen the extent of her imprisonment. His eyes had caught sight of an area next to the radiator where the blood had stained the ground in a deep red, a set of handcuffs and rope were not far away either.

“Ya know I’da killed ‘im” he said and she gave him a sad smile and a nod, knowingly.

“I know you would have…”

She turned around again, watching as the undead rapist writhed around on the floor, arms stretched out wanting to eat the living in front of him. Renée looked back at Daryl’s belt and pulled a handgun from it.

She pointed the end right in between its eyes, her hand shaking as she anticipated his dead form.

Her mind went to that moment, when she had shot him the first time.

* * *

_She stood, hands shaking. Her wrists red raw from the handcuffs, her hands holding the foreign object in her hands. She’d never held a gun before and this was the first time she would ever have shot one. She was naked, with blood sticking to her inner thighs and running all the way down her legs, now dried. She had purple and blue bruises all over her body, they were sore when she moved her muscles._

_The man in front of her was smiling, hands tauntingly up in the air, anticipating her to back down._

_Now wasn’t the time. And she would not let him go away with her._

_“Now now…sweetheart…we can talk about this” he had a low, menacing voice. As if he was talking to a child. He had short brown hair and a strong face, with a smug smile drawn right across it._

_“Shut up” she said shakily and he laughed lowly._

_“You’re not going to do anything…I know it” he smiled. Her hand was shaking more so now, but her expression became angry._

_“Get on your knees” she warned, but it wasn’t very menacing, as her voice was shaky. As much as she was rebelling, she was still afraid._

_He laughed again and dropped to his knees, his eyes staring into hers. Intimidating her even without having to say anything._

_She could feel how hard her lungs had to work to breathe and the heaviness that surrounded them. But she had to look him in the eye and give him what he deserved._

_“Sweetheart…we can talk about this. You’ll be safe with me…”_

_Renée felt the horrid feeling in her body, as if he was abusing her again._

_In her rage she pulled the trigger twice quickly and two bloodied holes appeared in the man’s chest. His smile fell from his face and Renée could think of no better sight than the sight of him dying. His hands rose to his chest in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but the oily red liquid came pouring out his mouth and she heard him choke on it. His eyes were wide and panicked, unexpected to have been shot by her._

_He reached out to touch her, for help maybe. But she stepped back and he fell forward, she merely watched as he choked on the floor. Bloodied hand outstretched to her, gargling sounds and eyes bloodshot._

_She watched the light leave his eyes and when she was sure he was dead she tiptoed around him, holding her wound at her stomach, still slightly torn open._

_Taking one last look at the body on the floor, at the slowly pooling liquid around it. And immediately felt the indescribable weight, lifted off her only to be placed on her again at the pain._

* * *

 

She held the gun shakily against his forehead, digging into the rotting skin. And she was so angry that she felt her lungs work twice as hard, her hand was now stable.

 

“Renée, let me—”

The shot rang out in the air and the undead body’s head fell limp. Renée had lowered her gun and handed it back to Daryl wordlessly. But she stayed stock still, her eyes focussed solely on the patch of blood in the centre of the room.

“That’s where I was…but you guessed that already…” she began, “I remember as vividly as you can imagine. That man I just shot, I’d already shot him before. Right there. And I remember that day. He’d already raped me once that day. Maybe if I had known that it was going to be the last time he ever would, I’d have thought about how I was going to kill him.

The day I remember the most though…was the day all that blood came out of me. And yeah…all of it’s mine.

It was the day when he  _cut_  my child out of me”

She emphasised the word as if it hurt her inside and she imagined herself there, screaming as he pumped the drugs inside of her. But she never witnessed her own surgery, only the aftermath.

“And when I woke up he’d…he’d put the-the thing…next to me. He did it to torture me the fucker…

But after that I didn’t cry…I never did”

Renée had turned to her lover, a solemn look on her face. She was not crying, but her eyes were glassy and ready. She stood tall in this room. The stark contrast to how she had appeared here not four or five years previous.

“Could you imagine how it felt?” she asked suddenly. Daryl had empathetic eyes, something that looked odd on the man, but it warmed her heart all the same and he listened intently to what she had to say.

“When I heard his car pull up outside in the early hours of the day…I knew what my day was going to be like. He’d be angry and abuse me as soon as he arrived. Then he’d drink for Lunch…maybe he’d feed us. Then in the evening he’d come back again…then once more in the earlier hours of the morning.

  
Rinse and repeat.

Everyday.

I imagine he had a life outside this shack. But a large portion of it was spent here…raping his favourite prize everyday….and I imagine he had a wife…maybe children…can’t think of his personal life being happy. Not if he thought he had to have me.

I wasn’t free when I shot him that day, Daryl…I wasn’t free when I wandered months and months south on my own…

I wasn’t even free when I met you”

She walked towards him softly and slowly, no intent visible. But she placed her palm flat on his chest, grasping his warmth in his body. She put her body against his and smiled up at him, her other hand brushing away his hair and cradling his face. Her thumb brushed over his facial hair lovingly, smiling as she did it. As if she were grateful for his existence.

“I was free that night we had sex for the first time”

She laughed through her nose at the ridiculousness of it, and Daryl smiled and placed his own large hands over hers.

“You are…and will always be…my first”

For the first time in a while, Daryl felt overcome and he pulled Renée’s face against his own, joining his lips with hers. And she had melted into his kiss, his hands wrapped protectively around her. Her hands had wrapped into his hair, pulling him closer, smelling his scent, feeling him claim her.

And he was as passionate, but not in the hungry, lustful sort of way. His fingertips brushed over her neck and his mouth took hers, his hot breathe overtaking her.

And when he pulled away, Renée had kept her eyes closed to savour the moment. And when she opened them, she saw Daryl smiling back, a small but gracious smile.

“Moonshine. Of course” Renée sighed as she pulled the large jug of the alcoholic beverage from a cooler that was in the other room of the shack.

That side of the shack was no better. There were two dirty sofas with an old television situated in front of it, glasses and glasses of beer were strewn about and Daryl was disgusted to even think that that man had been in here, drinking and awaiting for the next time to rape his lover. Disgusted to even think that a man like that was relaxing here, watching television so quietly, with Renée screaming in pain just down the hall.

 

And he looked over at her as if shocked that she had even overcome something like that. Shocked that she had become so strong since then.

She showed Daryl the full bottle of clear liquid with a smile on her face and it made Daryl happy to know that she was happy, considering.

“Wanna get into this?” she asked.

  
He merely shrugged, “Sure”

She passed one of the full jugs to her lover as she took her first, big swig of the drink. It didn’t taste very nice, but it was something.

“Tastes like shit, but will it get us drunk?” she smiled, sitting on his lap and getting comfortable. She sighed softly, “Do you know how good that felt?”

She looked over at Daryl, the smile ever so slightly drifting from her face.

“What?” he asked.

She took another sip.

“To shoot that dead bastard…it felt so good”

There was a pause between the two and Daryl looked up as if to praise her.

“Have you ever killed anyone and have it feel good?” she asked him.

He thought for a moment, “Felt good to kill that fat guy…”

“I know, I remember watching you do it. I remember thinking how full of rage you were…you’d have never done that before”

“I know”

“Have a drink” she said.

And Daryl had obliged, downing half of the bottle down so quickly it surprised her.

 

* * *

 

Hours and hours had passed and the two noticed that outside had been dark and pitch black. Renée’s cheeks were slightly pink from the drink and she was nearly at the end of the first jug, she was wobbling slightly with each step.

And Daryl smiled, having not seen her drunk that often, it was a nice change to see her happy.

“Helloooo?” she said, waving her hand in front of his dazed face.

“What?”

“I asked you a question” she smiled, “Was there anyone before me?”

He furrowed his brows, confused but amused, “Why ya askin’ that?”

She took a seat next to him, her green eyes looking up at him, “Because when we met…I don’t think you were a first timer like I was…”

There was a short silence,

“Well…not a virgin but…you know what I mean” she took a swig from her jug and listened intently.

He sighed.

“Was a long time ago”

“How long?”

“Jesus…must’a been like 21 when I met ‘er. Right when I left ma pop’s house.

She worked in a bar…served me my first whiskey.

She was closin’ up at the end o’ the night and I walked her home”

“Oo, check you out” she joked, pushing his arm. He gave her a side-eye, and continued,

“We were never really  _together_ …we just…”

“You were fuck buddies” she finished. He looked over at her and nodded, Renée took another swig with a smirk on her face.

“But I loved ‘er. I knew she didn’t feel the same. When Merle came back from the military I moved away with ‘im and that was it”

“That’s it?”

“Didn’t mean to disappoint ya”

“No, it’ not that. I just thought maybe there’d been a few before me”

He pushed her arm playfully, “Stop fuckin’ with me”

She did the same mockingly and smiled at him, “So I’m not your first love?”

He shook his head, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “But ya definitely could be ma last”

She leaned in to give him a lingering kiss, the strong smell of the alcohol on their lips. She dropped her empty jug to the ground and broke the kiss to reach for another jug.

“Nuh-uh, ya had enough”

She raised one of her eyebrows to him, “And how to do think you’re gonna stop me?” she smiled mischievously. He shook his head at her, taking her in.

“Ya relentless”

Renée searched her mind and instantly an idea popped into her mind.

  
“I have an idea”

“Go on”

“Let’s burn the place down”

She got up off his lap and searched the room for more of the moonshine as fuel for the fire.

“Wait, what? Ya wanna burn it?”

“Yeah, erasing this era of my life and all that metaphorical shit” she replied, finding three other bottles stashed away. She threw one of them to her lover,

“Thought ya were scared o’ fire?”

She unscrewed the cap to both of the new jugs and turned back to him, “I think we’re a bit past that, don’t you think?”

He shrugged and followed her example. Both of them splashed the strong liquid all over the place, every wall, every bit of furniture, even the dead body of the man, were covered in the flammable liquid.

She searched her pocket for matches and pulled out one, carelessly placing on in the middle of the floor in the living room, one in the hallway, and one in the skanky prison.

 

Laughing, she and Daryl ran outside and watched the building burst into flames. She watched with such happiness that anyone would have thought she weren’t watching a mass burning.

She turned to Daryl, still smiling, a new twinkle in her eye. He smiled back and pulled her towards him with his hand around her waist. And they simply watched the fire release its wrath, the little bits and fragments of her memory burning into ashes into the sky.


	48. Chapter Forty-Eight

****The smell of smoke clung to both their clothes as they trudged through the bushes, back to where they had parked their car. Renée felt lighter but heavier once she had realised that the place she had been kept captive was in fact close to one of the Saviour’s outposts.

“Typical…right on their fucking doorstep…” she muttered annoyed under her breath. Daryl grunted in response, not sure what to make of the whole situation. It was now dark and the two were unsure whether to set off back to the Kingdom in these sort of conditions.

“We probably shouldn’t get back so soon” she said as she turned to him, her machine gun slung over her back. Her green eyes met his and wandered for a few seconds down his body. His clothes were a little dirty, his shirt more so than the rest of him and a smile crept over her face at her secretive thoughts.

“What?” he asked, noticing her staring.

She shrugged, still smiling, “Nothing”

She opened the door to the car and threw her machine gun in the back seat, placing herself in the passenger seat of the car. She fiddled with the strands of hair near the front of her face as she saw Daryl follow suit, packing away his gun accessories on the hood of the car. And again she regarded him, the way his biceps were tight against the shirt he was wearing, the way his hair would hang beside his face, even the way he was doing the mundane things. It sent a warm feeling through her body.

He eventually sat himself in the seat next to her and she smiled at the silence between them, knowing that his thoughts were probably along the same lines. Her feelings were confirmed as she felt his eyes on her.

Daryl shifted where he sat, watching his lover beside him simply twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. His interest peaked when she shifted to take off her leather jacket, her slender arms snaking their way out of the sleeves. He admired the way her shirt stuck to the curves of her waist and found himself staring slack-jawed.

“You going to take me to watch the sunrise, Dixon?” she asked, looking over at him with that smile that made his chest swell. He grunted in faux annoyance and started the engine, with no intention of going back to the Kingdom, but somewhere safe where they could spend the night.

 

The car journey they spent in mostly silence save the humming of the engine. He eventually pulled up to an elevated spot where they could look over the woods, the stars twinkling brightly in the distance.

“How romantic of you” she said.

The soft rustling of the trees is all that occupied the room now as the couple sat with one another.

It almost sent a jolt through Renée when she felt his hand on her knee, rubbing her through her jeans lovingly. She smiled at his gesture, being something he very often wouldn’t do.

“How did ya do it?” he asked looking into the night.

“Do what?”

“Ya just went back…said ya piece…how?”

“It was nothing and I was ready to do it. Just hadn’t had the opportunity” she smiled at him.

“Would ya go back…to ya old life if ya could?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “You mean in England or when I came here?”

He shrugged.

“My life was shit in England so no and I wouldn’t go back to teaching either, kids are arseholes”

Daryl thought that was a fair point and nodded in return.

“Ya never talk about England…”

“Why should I? Not like I’m going back anytime soon”

“Sure but ya never miss it?”

“Can’t say I do, just reminds me of my parents”

“Oh yah…sorry…” he apologised, his hand squeezing around her knee in comfort.

“Don’t be, they can be dead for all I care” she spat, thinking about the abuse that was forced on her as a child, “I know I told you what happened, didn’t I?”

“Think so”

“Would you? Go back to your old life”

It was now his turn to scoff at the question as he scrunched up his face in disgust.

“Nah, never”

“For the same reasons I presume?”

He simply nodded at the question.

“That’s why we’re good for each other” she smiled, “Not like you would have gone for a girl like me before all this”

“Why ya think that?”

She laughed slightly, “I was so not your type back then”

“And I was yours?”

“Oh yeah you would’ve been. But I’m just saying you would never have thought once about dating me, especially when you would find out I was English” she laughed, resting her hand on the top of his, rubbing his skin with her thumb in circles.

“Yah, ya right. Can’t see a redneck like me and a…English lady…bein’ together”

“I’m no lady, I can assure you of that”

“Ya somethin’” he joked. Renée turned to him with a smirk on her face, rolling her eyes in jest, muttering something he couldn’t quite hear under his breath. The sun began to peak across the horizon, shining a line of red and pink light through the sky, making the aura around the couple a soft shade of orange.

 

Daryl’s eyes stayed on her as she smiled at the sunrise, still fiddling with a strand of her hair between her fingers. And they both basked in the warm glow of the sunrise for a moment in silence, before Daryl’s hand slowly ran up her clothed leg, letting her hand drop from his.

Questioningly, she turned to him, but her mouth was kept closed as she realised what he was doing. Her eyes were stuck on his as his fingers dragged up the fabric, coming to stop at the top of her jeans, where her buttons were. She felt a shiver through her body with the anticipation.

His fingers managed to pop open her buttons revealing the black underwear she was wearing and he’d heard her sharp intake of breath as he grasped the zip between his fingers and pulled it down. With a smirk on his face, he adjusted the chair so that his lover was now completely laying back, a small squeak of surprise came from her at the sudden movement.

She smiled as he clambered on top of her, pulling her jeans down her hips eagerly, using his other hand to push her shirt above her chest to hold her breast, immediately feeling the tight sensation in his own jeans. He leaned over her and placed his mouth on hers, kissing her slowly, savouring the taste of her.

 

She let the moans vibrate her through as his fingers teased the sensitive area between her legs, knowing that she was getting wetter as he carried on.

“Mm…Daryl…” she moaned between kisses as his lips dragged down to her neck, then her collarbone. He pulled the cup of her bra down revealing her perk breasts, nipples already erect with arousal and before she could say anything to him, he pulled her panties to one side and placed his fingers inside of her as his mouth landed over her left nipple.

A loan, drawn out moan came from Renée, the warm feeling in her stomach only getting hotter and hotter as he carried on. And she gripped at the sides of the seat, bit her lip and writhed around as his fingers curled up inside of her warm heat, hitting that spot where she had needed him the most.

“Ya so good for me, aren’t ya…” he said, kissing her ribcage and dragging his tongue down her torso.

“Yes…” she replied in a hurried breath, anticipating where he was going to place his mouth next.

But she was wrong again as he propped himself up and plunged his fingers deep inside her over and over, effortlessly sliding in and out due to her arousal. He fucked her with his fingers mercilessly, loving the sight of her head pushed back, eyes closed and incontrollable moans and curses pouring out her mouth.

“Fuck…Daryl” she moaned in need, desperately feeling the orgasm forming inside her. And he continued, his thumb coming up to rub her clit while his two fingers fucked her. Her moans became louder at the added contact and she couldn’t help herself as her orgasm ripped through her, multiple ‘shit’s and ‘fuck’s coming along with it. Daryl smiled as he helped her through her climax, slowly coming to a halt once her back was against the seat once again and only a few laboured breaths were heard.

Her eyes were closed, exhausted and he couldn’t help but smile as her hurried breaths made their way up and down their chest, her dark brown hair sprawled out across the seat below him.

He leaned down and kissed her neck softly, making her moan quietly. Her hands tiredly coming up to his shoulders to peel the shirt from his skin, needing to feel him underneath. She could feel his shirt hiked up at the bottom, the trail of hair that lead underneath his own jeans brushing against her soft skin. And her hands went down to the hem and roughly pulled it up and over his head, exposing his now bare torso to his open-eyed lover beneath him.

  
Her eyes were softly held open, still in a slight state of euphoria from her most recent orgasm and she looked lovingly at him, warm hands gliding across his shoulders, down his muscled arms to rest there, pulling his body closer to her. He complied very willingly and pressed his body against her, his own hands tugging her shirt over her head and tugging the bra off her arms, making her soft airbrushed chest visible to Daryl now.

As she had exposed herself to him, she observed his gaze where not only lust was found. She had remembered all those times she had thought that he was dead when they’d separated, all those times she’d lost hope of ever even seeing his face again. Here he was above her. So close to her. So emotionally invested in him, she knew in her heart that he would be her last love in this world.

And she felt the warmth in her stomach grow as he pushed into her, his hands holding her to her side and intensely looking into her eyes with a lustful gaze. And she let out a held back moan as he slipped easily into her, unable to move her thighs as her tight jeans constricted them from opening more, she felt a tighter feeling than ever before.

This was love sex. Both of them knew that. Both of them knew that their relationship had been fucked up for a long time, even the nature of their origins, not too dissimilar from what they were doing now. Fucking in the woods that was.

 

There had been abuse, verbal and physical on both sides. Revenge. Hatefulness. Lying. Violence. Trauma, even. But here they were, still having not murdered each other by now, badly in love with each other. What a sick kind of love it was, where two fucked up people burdened by their life had found absolution in each other.

And in their cages of contempt, where they both knew they would stay, there was a warm glow. Of which each other knew would only die, if one of them did.

But they were invincible.

And they made love as rough as they had before, fuelled by their sheer desire for each other. She felt another orgasm bubble up inside of her body rush out, her second one more powerful than the first made her moan out loudly, uncaring of attracting the attention of nearby dead. She heard her lover let out a guttural groan as he wanted to cum but desperately holding back until her body had calmed with her own climax.

He finished on her stomach, moaning loudly as he did so. Leaving her hurriedly breathing with streams of white across her torso, eyes heavy and lidded as she came down once again.

And when she’d opened her eyes, he was leaning against the door, out of breath and out of energy with his now slightly limp erection in his hand still. Renée couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle, the pleasure still humming through her body at that time.

Both of them had gotten dressed again in the small confines of the car and as Renée pulled her shirt back over her head, as well as her jacket, she looked over at Daryl, who continued looking stoically ahead and laughed to herself.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing” she replied quickly.

He huffed in response, knowing exactly what she was getting at.

And in complete silence and notably satisfied, Daryl reversed the car and continued back to the Kingdom, his hand inadvertently rested on her knee. A firm, loving squeeze a constant reminder throughout their journey.


	49. Chapter Forty-Nine

Of course the nightmares weren’t going to stop. Who was I kidding myself? This isn’t a fairy tale or a movie. I should have known that my subconscious would never let me forget.

This nightmare was different. Terrifying. And here I was, leaning against the window in our bedroom, watching the night sky above me with their twinkles of small light, assuring me how late it actually was. And how long these winter nights were indeed.

It felt like a thousand dreams in hauled into one. All my most painful memories mixed up with one another, creating a monster that even in my awake state, was awful to think about.

Weirdly, my first memory of my vision was when I arrived in America. Getting off that stifling plane into the stifling heat of Virginia, I remember feeling refreshed at a new beginning, with only two full suitcases at my side I moved into my new home. Why Virginia, I remember someone asking me. The answer was that nobody from my home in Leicester would have guessed where I was. Namely, my parents. They weren’t smart enough to know where Virginia even was. I remembered buying my first furniture from the second-hand shop down the street and a younger American man trying to flirt with me, but I wasn’t interested.

I remembered beginning my teacher career straight away. Not that I wanted to teach, mind you. As I didn’t particularly like children or teenagers for that matter, but it was something I could do. Plus, it paid the bills. I remember that one evening I’d stayed behind and met Negan in the staff room. Saw the intention behind his eyes. It was weird to think that he was the same man that we were very much against.

I have no doubt that Daryl wonders if I blame Negan for what happened to me. Not that I blame him, I’d be wondering the same. But truthfully, in a cruel kind of way, I do blame him. I blame him in the way that if he hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t have been alone, vulnerable and taken away that night. I wouldn’t hold it against him, that would just be mean. But in a weird way, I do blame him for it.

In the dream, I was clutching at my bloodied stomach. Jeans, shirt, everything just soaked in it. I was staggering so slowly through the tall grass to find anything. A car, a person, anything. Could you blame me? I hadn’t seen any other face other than the man who had taken everything from me for what I now know to be over a year; I was desperate for another face. Looking back though, they might have mistaken me for the dead. Maybe it was for the better.

I remembered thinking how stupid I had been. I came to America to escape my tragic life, to achieve that dream that the country offered. A sense of peace maybe. And there I was struggling to drag one foot in front of the other, my thighs slick with blood and probably the most weak I had ever felt. I felt ridiculous, thinking I could have a life as peaceful as I had imagined it.

Then, I remembered dying at the prison. Or did I even die? From what Daryl had expressed, I very much looked dead. I certainly felt like I had died. I saw Hershel and his worried face and then the darkness had pushed me to the ground. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. I was alive for a few seconds after that, screaming on the inside. But my body wouldn’t move and I felt my lips burn with the words I wanted to say before it was too late.

Within that time that I had thought this, my thoughts had just stopped. I felt nothing. Nothing in my chest, nothing at my fingertips, no pain. Just blackness and a cold presence of sinking. Floating almost.

Then, there was a memory that I thrive to remember.

I was holding the match in front of my face, looking through the flame at the man handcuffed to the bed. The strong smell of gasoline filled the air, but I could hear nothing as he pleaded for his life. And he screamed as I dropped the match on his bed, the bands of hot flame spreading all over his body. Scorching his tongue, his flesh, his hair. The smell was awful. But it was worth it to see him in all the pain.

He had, after all, wanted the same thing as my rapist had. And he didn’t care what he had to do to me to get it. He forced me to kill those people in ways I had never even dreamt and I had carried this desire up to even now. In a way, I felt for Julie. But history was not made by women who did nothing to their attackers. I wanted revenge and I wanted blood. I remember walking away thinking that that must be what true satisfaction felt like. And my new scars inflicted by him were burning as well.

Quickly, I felt the jolt of excitement in my body when I had stabbed the Governor through the chest. Hearing his ribs give out was music. But it was so quick.

As quick as the loud, earth shattering punch that Daryl had laid on my jaw when we’d reunited. But that memory hurt and it was over in a flash.

And it happened over and over again, with different versions of the same time. Like introducing myself to Negan, screaming at Daryl, leaving that burning building behind. I was exhausted from all the flashing images and I woke terrified, so needed the fresh air badly.

I desperately did not want to slip back into the notion of feeling sorry for myself. But at the same time, I felt the heaviness in my chest looking back on my past. How excited I was…to get away from my country, to come here and experience the most testing years of my life. It was hard to admit I had been so weak. When I was kidnapped, I’d wanted to die so badly. I hoped that maybe one day he’d beat me to death without realising how hard he was being, or maybe starving me. Just something is all I craved. And that feeling only got worse after I lost the baby.

But even now, looking into the darkened night. Seeing the torches illuminating the roads and pavements. I was grateful for one thing, Daryl. We, of course, weren’t perfect. But who’s life has ever been? I was grateful when that rainy day I saw the back of him, his jacket had wings on and I felt like I had died already. I remember looking at him hazily when I was bleeding out on the ground, his boot on my wrist to keep me down, and I remember the way he looked at me. Suspicious obviously, but he had seen the way I had looked at him, that he had been the first human in a while to show me any mercy.

  
He could have killed me right there. He could have refused to take me back. And yes, while we did hate each other to begin with, I began to realise that when he’d come to find me that one night, he had the same tortured soul that I did.

My head hurts thinking about all this, so leaning off the windowsill I shed my jacket and made for the bathroom, looking at his sleeping form on the bed with a smile on my face. He was so peaceful, I felt the need to protect him when he was like this. But when he was awake, he was always truly aware of himself, always on guard.

I turned the faucet and the water came on at first cold, so while I waited for it to heat up I stood in front of the sink, looking at my image in the mirror. My hair was a little matted from the day me and Daryl had. After we came back to the Kingdom it was a long day of helping everybody with little tasks, Daryl largely just watching me from a distance smoking cigarettes, but I didn’t mind.

 

From the lifting and gardening help my arms and legs were a little sore so I peeled my clothes from my skin slowly, feeling immediately elevated. I dropped my underwear to the floor and looked over myself in the mirror, my finger tracing the white marks on my upper body, now even more prominent due to my skin having more colour to it. Anywhere I looked, there were scars after scars after scars. The biggest and most off putting to me, being the ones stretching across my lower belly, just a reminder of my inability to have children. I sighed and brushed my hair out, getting the tangles out of it before I washed it.

But I didn’t dwell on my body much longer and stepped into the shower. Rubbing the shampoo into my hands and brushing them through my strands of hair, feeling clean again and finally ridding my body of the smell of smoke. And I just found myself standing there, my head rested against the wall with eyes closed, thinking about my life whilst running my slick hands down my shiny, wet hair.

 

I wondered what it would have been like if myself and Daryl were together before all this and even the image alone made me giggle. I couldn’t imagine me…back then…and Daryl, it just…wouldn’t have happened. I probably would have fancied him but he would never have gone out with someone like me.

I felt his large hands on my shoulders, but I didn’t jolt, but I wasn’t expecting him either. I welcomed his large hands sliding up my back, dipping in the middle and coming up to my shoulders, his thumbs massaging the tenser part of my muscles. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling, my arms crossed over my chest and my head resting against the shower wall. I could hardly believe he was even there as I hadn’t heard the bathroom or shower door open nor had felt his presence behind me.

And he and I were completely silent, not having to communicate anything verbally of course. After the sex in the car, we’d drove back largely in silence with one another and were away from each other the whole day, busy with chores or favours with occasional scares of the Saviours arriving. This would be the moment that he would say something to me, as he was already asleep when I came back to our room.

He continued to rub his hands all over me and I sighed in a sort of relief at his touch, as if craving it. His hands fell to my waist to pull my body towards his, putting a smirk immediately on my face. I tilted my head to look behind me, seeing the smallest smirk also visible on his stubbly features, his eyes hooded and looking down at me.

Hardly thinking about it, I raised my hand and slid it around his body, placing my head perfectly against his chest as I drew soft little circles on his back. I felt him lovingly smooth his hand down my slick hair, playing with individual clumped together strands, twisting them between his fingers, tucking them behind my ear.

 

And I felt his heart beating, faster than what was normal, but beating. I couldn’t not smile when I was touching him like this. So intimate. So unlike him, stereotypically. Here was the most stoic, stock still character you would ever see, playing with my hair as his heart quickened to the idea of hugging naked in the shower. It was honestly the best feeling. And I knew this from the pleasurable swelling in my stomach that had become so welcomed and more recent in my life.

I had helped him wash his own hair and body before we left the shower together. I watched him dry his hair with the towel, back to me from the mirror, smiling. He really was perfect. And when he turned to look at me, he looked questioningly and then immediately doted on my figure in front of him.

I threw on some fresh underwear and one of Daryl’s clean short sleeves shirts, it would have to do for the night. He insisted on sleeping with just underwear this night and I watched from the doorway as he got himself comfortable in bed, the sheets merely covering up to his mid-section. Still completely silent.

I tucked into bed next to him, resting my head on my palm and calmed by the feeling of him pulling my body towards his. He smoothed down my hair so that he could comfortably lay right beside me.

 

“Ya restless”

I’d yearned to hear his deep, gravelly voice all day and it was satisfying to finally have it.

“Nightmares. Figures doesn’t it” I replied quietly.

He shuffled a little, “Standard protocol for me, sunshine. Just don’t want ya feelin’ down”

At this I smiled and turned my face to him a little and quietly said, “I’m not”

“What ya dream about?” he asked me after a short silence from him.

I huffed through my nose, dragging my fingers across his arms, “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Like I said, standard protocol”

I smiled at his replies and my eyes went to the ceiling, thinking about my dream. I decided not to tell him about the ones I had remembered earlier, instead deciding on the more tame details.

“It was…kind of what I always dream about. I’m in the room, handcuffed like I was and he is there, grabbing my face. Making me look at him. He was smiling at me in that gross way. I knew it must have been in the beginning because I would show my hatred on my face. `

Then I was holding a baby in my arms. A fully formed, sleeping little child. I was crying, thinking that the child was so beautiful. But I wasn’t in that room, I was in a bedroom and there was blood all over the bedsheets. I think it might have been our child, I think it had your eyes.

The baby wasn’t even crying, just me. I felt so happy and I could feel it in my chest. The swell of love.

You were sat there on the bed, arms out, wanting to hold our baby. You cradled it and walked out of the room. I was screaming, begging you not to leave with the baby but you couldn’t hear me. And I screamed so loud I felt my throat get sore. And I realised I was still bleeding and couldn’t help but feel weaker and weaker and weaker. Then I just felt nothing at all”

Daryl was staring at me now, listening intently. And I could see from the look on his face that he was empathetic to my nightmare, I saw him visualising it all in his head. But there was a sad expression mixed in there as he realised more so that my dream would never happen.

He put his arms around me and encouraged me to lean my head against his chest. So I did. And I heard the slow hum of his heartbeat again as he ran his fingers through my hair. And I felt the loving warmth of a kiss he’d placed on top of my head.

And I felt safe in his arms. And I felt guilty in a self-loathing sort of way. I complained far too much about not being able to have children and I felt bad for it, Daryl always seemed bothered whenever I bought it up. And I thought, I will never bring it up again, even if he asks.

I also felt guilty as he was consoling me to sleep because I felt like he did more to care for me than I did for him. Of course, he doesn’t need as much emotional help. But I felt awful because I did. I felt like a burden.

And I felt like my love might never be enough for him.


	50. Chapter Fifty

Daryl had been progressively more distant from Maggie, Renée had noticed it. Everyone seemed to at this point. Every-time Maggie would try, even something as small as handing a plate to him, his gaze would sink to the floor in a sort of submissiveness. He’d be polishing his knife or pretending to people watch, simply to avoid conversation with her. As a conversation would turn into something they both knew was bound to happen.

And that’s exactly what Renée thought as she glanced over at Daryl on the bench, twirling the blade around in his hands. Her hands were crossed over her glistening chest, the heat in this place so unbearable that by now her shirt was sticking to her skin uncomfortably. The constant pang of metal against metal was similar to that of torture as she stood by, waiting for the ‘blacksmith’ to finish making new knives from old ones.

“Done” the man said, cueing Renée to grab the newly formed blade and cool it down in a bucket of water. To which she took her previous stance where she could clearly see Daryl and began sharpening the tool. Of course, of all the places Maggie had wanted her it had been here, as Renée was willing to help anywhere. She sort of regretted agreeing to it now, as the man who made said blades was dull and quiet, only ever muttering one word commands every now and then.

But she couldn’t stand it. Huffing irritably, she flung her hair over her shoulders and pulled all of her dark brown hair into a messy ponytail, curling it into a bun to stop the hair touching her sweaty nape. For this job, she rarely chose her best clothes. And occasionally she ended up wearing the clothes she’d worn out in the woods, ripped in certain places and a bit more…revealing than she usually wore, especially around the bust. As hot as it was, there was a deep dip in her cleavage area, allowing for any breeze to pass by her chest.

She looked back towards Daryl as she secured her bun behind her hair to find he was looking straight at her. And there was a different look in his gaze, as at first, she’d noticed that his eyes were on her chest. The curvature of her breasts perfectly shadowed by the dim light in the room as she raised her arms to tie her hair up was completely visible to Daryl. The way her chest glistened in the dark orange and red light made a dark jealously stir up inside him, especially since she was in the presence of another man.

He’d been like that a lot lately. Any man that she looked in the direction of, he’d make sure they knew that she was his. Asserting his dominance by placing his hand around her hip, stealing passionate kisses from her out in the open or any physical touch. It was very unlike him, but he was jealous. Extremely so.

Renée saw the look on his face. How his eyes wandered over her body for a while before they returned to her flushed face. And thinking about how she was affecting him, a smirk crept its way onto her face.

 

But her smile slowly faded as the bell at the gates began to ring and a panicked man shouted for the arrival of the Saviours. Her gaze was on the gates now opening slowly and she turned to Daryl, to find that he wasn’t there. Renée knew she had no need to run from them as they had seen her before. But she couldn’t help but feel the familiar flutter of panic, just in case they’d find Daryl.

 

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest and watched as the cars rode in like they owned the place. The first pulled up in the centre and a man with a moustache stepped out and scanned the place. His eyes rested on her for a moment and she could see the smile on his features. But she simply watched as he sauntered over to Gregory with the utmost confidence, his gaze every so often drifting over to her.

Greogory was clearly unravelled at the arrival and skittishly went to his office in the big main building, Renée went to follow them but was stopped at the door by another Saviour who blocked the doorway with his wide, bulky body. Renée, despite being a taller woman, looked small in comparison.

“Where do ya think ya goin’, sweetheart?” he asked as a smirk spread across his face. She almost automatically rolled her eyes at the nickname, so overused at this point, but still feeling the creepy shiver down her spine.

“I’m going in there” she answered flatly.

“Are ya now? What business ya got bein’ in there, huh?”

She cocked her head amusedly, “I don’t think that’s any of your business”

He was amused by her surprising accent and she could tell his smile was only getting bigger.

“Ya somethin’ ain’t ya? Got a lotta balls to talk to me like that”

“Stop bein’ a dick to the lady, would ya?” Renée heard Simon say as he approached the man, slapping a hand on his shoulder in authority. The man seemed mildly pissed off that he had lost this battle to a woman as he gave an annoyed look to the woman, but she merely smirked and slipped past the two men, catching the attention of Simon as he watched her walk away.

And she simply leaned against the doorframe, watching Gregory as he stressed about everything that was going on and he simply looked up at Renée with a look. It was a look that Renée knew and she knew what is might have meant for Daryl’s safety. It was the look that said he wanted them gone. But with the presence of Renée came a look from her and she raised her eyebrows at him, silently threatening him.

Had she not been there, he might have sold them out. And Negan would definitely know.

And Simon walked past her, his gaze lingering on her for much longer.

“Well, fuck me. I don’t think we’ve met” he said to her, she looked up to him disinterested, arms crossed over her still glistening chest, her hair long been pulled out the ponytail and slung over her shoulder.

“We’ve met”

He looked confused, but was still confidently smiling towards her. He cocked his head, fingers threaded in his belt loops.

“And when the hell was that?”

Renée ran her fingers through her hair, pulling the hair tie from it so that her long, dark hair fell over her hair thickly. Her gaze only becoming more intense as she stared down the man in front of her.

“You might remember when your men beat the shit out of me before the line-up” she said matter-of-factly. Simon’s one eyebrow shot up amusedly and Renée was annoyed to find a small smirk on his face,

“Yes…” he said in a drawn out breath, “…I do remember you. The one who gave Negan a hard time, huh?”

 

Renée held a cold stare at the mention of Negan’s name. Nobody else really knew how far Negan and Renée went back together, but a few sort-of guessed it was some kind of relationship form the way Negan reacted around her. Simon had little knowledge about her anyway and like everyone else, assumed it was merely a relationship.

“So he’s mentioned me?” she asked, trying to hide a smirk that was appearing on hers too.

“Indeed, he has. Hasn’t stopped gassin’ on about ya”

She gave a small huff of laughter through her nose and leaned off the wall to approach the man, who was in close proximity to begin with. He was taller than her quite clearly, but the step towards him almost made Simon falter unexpectedly.

“Then you would have probably been told to not speak to me. Right?” she smiled. Simon’s disappeared almost instantly, comically.

She nodded, “Right. So I suggest…that unless you want a more difficult job, you don’t bother me, or anyone that lives here, full stop. Don’t worry, if it does happen I’ll make sure Negan hears about it” she smirked. Simon’s head tilted upwards his eyes still attached to hers, Renée slapped an envelope into his chest which he took before it slid down onto the floor.

“Give that to Negan and if you open it I’ll know” she said before starting to walk away, leaving Simon, for the first time in a while, speechless.

One of the men near the main entrance cupped Renée’s arm as she tried to slip past, but she didn’t fight it.

“Let her the fuck alone, Will” she heard Simon say from behind her to which she smiled at the man. He took a cold glance at the woman and pulled him hand away, leaving Renée utterly satisfied, amused and powerful.


	51. Chapter Fifty-One

They ransacked the place. Turned the fucking joint upside down in search of something. Anything. Goddammit, they even went through her phone. All those texts and calls to one another came in handy for them at least. The last call she ever made was to me, 10:46pm. A missed call. Next thing I knew, I was getting reprimanded by the police on suspicion of being accountable for her fucking disappearance.

Every detail of our relationship came out in that little, grey room at the police station. Where we met, the clothes she wore, how many fucking moles she had on her torso, I don’t know. Eventually, after weeks and weeks went by, I was asked about her murder.

I knew more than anyone that she’d been missing weeks, she’d probably be dead. And in my bed, every fucking night, I’d replay her voice on that voicemail and how fucking upset she sounded. But I’d been the asshole. I’d always been the asshole.

I was released a week after they’d questioned me about her murder. Mostly because they couldn’t prove I had done anything in the first place. But that didn’t mean I felt any better about the whole thing.

Years went on, I forgot about her for a while. I still felt that heavy guilty feeling, goddammit. But her existence sank to the bottom of my priority pile. I wasn’t even really sure then if I loved her, in the beginning. But fuck, the years went by and she crept up every now and then and I felt that same feeling I had with my Lucille. Lucille was different, by far. But Renée…she was something else.

Then there was that night. She knelt there, with her big eyes looking up as if she’d seen the worst person in the fucking world. She looked terrified of me. And that fucking hurt. She looked like the world had been weighing her down all those years and boy, had she changed because of it.

She was justifiably pissed off with me to begin with and I don’t think she’ll ever truly forgive me for what happened to her. But I respect her, now more than ever.

Knowing what shit she’s been through, what she told me anyway, and coming out the other end a hell of a fucking woman. That gets a shit-tonne of respect from me. Hell, she could get through multiple apocalypses from the shit she’s been through.

But I could fuckin’ tell she’d changed. That look in her eyes, full of contempt for the horrible version of men. Her resting eyes would wander to the ground, watching her feet move below her. I could tell she hadn’t quite filled up the shell that was as full as it was before. There was something missing. Her pride maybe. Her respect for herself.

Don’t get me wrong. I hadn’t stopped spendin’ night after night with the wives, I ain’t that fuckin’ emotional. But I’d noticed it was always the brunette ones lately. I don’t think I even know what’s goin’ on it my own fuckin’ head at this point.

I saw the sad son’s o’ bitches kneel as I strolled by, Lucille at her post over my shoulder. I couldn’t help but smile. Simon had something to tell me.

 

It was night by the time Simon and my men came back from the Hilltop and all but the Saviours were running around the joint, the residents having a curfew to stick to.

I saw him in the distance, his glorious moustache and his not so glorious hairline easy to spot. But my smile didn’t fuckin’ last long as he slammed the door, striding towards me, clearly irritated. He joined eyes with, wordlessly raising my eyebrows he took something out his back pocket and presented it to me.

It was a crumpled envelope. I grinned and shrugged.

“The fuck is that?”

Simon still didn’t look very goddamn impressed, especially by my cocky attitude.

“Just take it”

With my free hand I took the envelope, but still uninterested in opening it.

“What the fucks wrong with your face?”

“Still no sign of Daryl. Fucker’s poofed into thin air it seems”

  
My smile immediately dropped. I knew goddamn well he was alive and I wouldn’t have to look far to find ‘im.

“And ya little girlfriend’s nothin’ but trouble”

At this, a frown appeared.

“Ya probably got in her fuckin’ way” I said to him. He just shrugged.

“Yeah well, she likes to push any goddamn button she can cause she knows she’s invincible…cos o’ you”

Simon could see my fingers grip onto Lucille a little bit tighter and immediately dropped the subject.

“Simon, you are my right hand man. Correct?”

 

He nodded, eyes every now and then looking at his shoes, “Yes, Negan”

I smiled wide, “And as my right hand fuckin’ man, you act on behalf of me when I am not present. You fuck up, it makes me look bad. And I am not the bad guy here. I  _save_ people, Simon. And I cannot make it any fucking clearer to you when I say that if you lay one finger on any hair on pretty little Renée’s head. I  _will_  kill you. Or any fucker that even thinks about it.

And I am a man of my word”

Simon took a cold, long stare at me. Nodded slightly and fucked off. I watched him walk away, clearly in a mood, but like I could give a shit.

I was as serious about what I said as anything I ever fuckin’ say. I cared about her and the poor lady had been through enough in her life and plenty more she pro’lly wasn’t tellin’ me. Last thing she needs is my men breathin’ down her fucking neck.

 

* * *

 

Her voicemail ended for the third time and his finger hovered over the number ‘3’ button, deleting said voicemail. But instead he locked the phone and threw it across the room. His hands were held in his lap, sitting on the edge of his bed, he couldn’t help but feel the waves of guilt wash over him. His neck was getting hot and his hands were clammy now.

Begrudgingly, he picked up his phone to find the corner of his screen slightly cracked and sighed in annoyance. He scrolled through the contacts, finding ‘Amy’, another teacher who’d had the hots for him since day one, but he’d never been interested in her. He type out the text so quickly he barely had the time to contradict himself, so he sent it.

‘ _Been a while, come over. Got wine’_

Is what he had typed out. The moment he saw those three dots indicating she was replying, he regretted it. Even more so when he received her message.

‘ _Be there in 10 xx’_

This was his way. Sex came easy to Negan and it was always something that he knew he could do well. So instead of concerning himself with how Renée must have felt, walking home in the dark, Amy arrived, pretending to not know they would have sex. And they did.  And Negan had had his fill.

And he lay in the same bed, sheets draped over him and the woman asleep next to him. Her back faced him and if not for the fact that she had dark blonde hair, he could maybe pretend it was Renée.

 

* * *

 

She wiped her wet cheeks as soon as she entered her home, immediately starting for the stairs, she abandoned her high heels and handbag before climbing them. In her room, she shed her clothing, her beautiful dress and lingerie and threw on her nightwear. A white tank top and checked shorts, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail now.

She stared at herself in her vanity mirror, wiping the tears away that were still effortlessly making their way down her face. Putting on a brave face, she padded her way down her stairs to the kitchen and turned on her kettle. Hearing the water start to boil, she turned around and saw a dark figure hiding in the darkness of her kitchen, none of her lights being turned on when she came home.

Her heart froze in her chest and her feet became stuck to the tiles seeing him there, someone she did not recognise. Her eyes peered over to her phone, hanging out the handbag she’d abandoned on the floor not 5 minutes previous. Only for the man to step forward, pulling a gun from behind him, pointing it to her.

 

“Don’t even try it, sweetheart” he warned.

She’d never been more scared in her life. Guns were never a part of her life back home, so being threatened with one, terrified her more than anything. But knowing that she had to at least try, she ran. Her phone in clear sight.

“Shit! Get her!” the man said. And she didn’t realise what he had meant until she had her phone in her hands, was about to type ‘911’ and had only got to ‘91’ before she felt the cold, hard whack of something on the back of her head. And she collapsed onto the hardwood floor, the back of her head pulsing in pain and slightly bleeding, groans of pain coming from her mouth, now she could barely think about screaming. She hadn’t noticed a second man brandishing a metal pipe as a weapon and in her blurred vision, realised they were coming closer.

With all the strength she could ever have mustered, she turned over and crawled to the phone that she had dropped and had slid halfway across the room. Her knees barely supporting her weak body and little specs of blood following her as she went. The men didn’t need to rush and simply sauntered over. The first man bent over her, one arm wrapping around her neck and the other holding it in place, he began to choke her.

Feeling the air leaving her lungs second by second, she still reached for her phone, the ‘91’ already typed in, taunting her. But her fingers were too far away and with blurry vision, no air in her body and his voice vibrating through her chest saying ‘shhh’, she succumbed to the forced slumber and her eyes began to close, hearing his laugh.

It had all happened so quickly. Her life seemed to be over,  she thought before she blacked out. What a cruel night it had been for her and it didn’t seem to end there.

 


	52. Chapter Fifty-Two

Renée gave Maggie a long, warm hug. Feeling her heartbeat against hers made the woman feel not only safe, but hopeful that the baby that was growing inside her would be healthy.

Renée pulled away to see Maggie giving a half smile, her hands still rested on her shoulders in a comforting sort of way. Maggie nodded,

“Everything will be fine” she said. Renée nodded in agreement, but inside feeling quite the opposite feeling.

All this preparation for the attack against Negan had Renée feeling unsavoury. Rick had told her that he had collaborated with another community who from the sounds of it did not have any right to have gained Rick’s trust. But nonetheless, to Rick they were simply more people, more guns.

The dark-haired woman simple watched as Daryl accepted Maggie’s embrace, having that same strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She walked away from them both as they shared a short conversation, flinging her rifle in the back seat of the car and sitting herself there waiting for Daryl.

He plopped himself into the driver’s seat wordlessly and the engine sprang to life. It was a half an hour journey to Alexandria from here and a journey that the now quiet couple would be doing alone.

It was excruciating, the silence between them. And the worst part was that there was no argument, this was just the way Daryl was. Renée sat in the back seat, legs crossed over one another, fiddling with the ring on her finger that the man had given her a long time ago.

She looked up to the rear-view mirror to see that his eyes were on her before quickly flicking back to the road.

“Pull over” she said.

“Huh?”

“I said pull over. Now” she ordered.

Daryl didn’t question it and the car swerved onto an embankment coming to a stop. Renée got out of the car and opened the driver’s door. Daryl, misunderstanding the situation, went to get out before being pushed back harshly into his seat with Renée’s hand on his chest. She slid onto his lap, her legs wrapping around him in a way he could only describe as being a perfect fit. And suddenly, his heart was beating quickly and he felt the pulse all around his body.

She gazed into his surprised eyes, which admittedly wasn’t much different to his usual look, but she could always tell.

“The hell ya doin’?” he asked in a low voice.

She chose not to reply to the man and instead slid his belt across his waist and discarding it to the passenger seat, she tugged her own bottoms down to her knees, made easier by the fact that she’d borrowed black leggings instead of jeans. With her eyes always on him, her fingers harshly, almost needing, unbuttoned his own jeans to which he let out a quiet groan at being unconfined as his arousal only increased.

 

 

With one hand pleasuring his now growing arousal through his underwear, the other went to the back of his neck to pull him closer to her for a needed kiss. Feeling her warm hands on his most sensitive area caused him to moan as she kissed him, which only became heightened when her hand dipped into his boxers to caress his hard member. His own hands grabbed at her sides, pulling her body further onto him.

His own big, rough hands explored her clothed body, grasping at her breasts and her hair as their mouths moved against one another in a breathy mess of kisses.

She pulled away and looked down at him, still caressing his hard cock between her fingers.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she replied now.

  
He found it difficult to say much else now that she was stroking his bare member. After a few constrained moans,

“Fuck…” is all he managed.

Renée smiled and pulled her underwear to one side, the foreplay making it effortless to slide onto him. She closed her eyes as he slid into her, feeling that delicious drag she had craved since the day before, catching him staring at her from the bench. She let a moan slip out as their bodies connected until he would go no further.

Her hands slid into his hair as she started slowly moving herself on him, his head rested on her shoulder as she pressed her body up against him, moving faster and faster on top of him. She could feel the vibrations of his moans against her chest as well as his hands making their way up her loose shirt and up to her breasts that were cradled in her bra.

Annoyed with the fabric, Renée slid the shirt off her body and carried on. Now Daryl simply watched her breasts in the thin fabric of the bra bouncing as she did, each movement adding more pleasure and tension in the knot of his stomach.

“Daryl…” she moaned, his eyes looked over at her face, her eyes. And he thought she looked like a fucking goddess, her hair draped over her shoulders with loose black curls, the straps of her bra hanging on her small shoulders, tantalisingly.

As if reading her mind, his hands grabbed harshly at her hips and pushed her down onto him, causing her to moan louder. Her eyes met his as he pushed into her roughly, her mouth just always hanging open to let the moans of pleasure out. The fact that most of their skin was covered by clothing was more arousing, much to Daryl’s surprise.

So he simply watched and listened to the woman on top of him, he watched as she breathed harder, feeling her own tension build as well. And remembering what she had said before, he leaned up and wrapped his large hand around her neck, squeezing the sides of it. She closed her eyes, feeling that urge build more and more now that one sense had been supressed.

And it wasn’t long before Renée became quickly undone, moaning his name over and over as the waves hit her like a train. But he watched pleasurably, but didn’t stop his movements.

“Daryl…please…” she managed as he continued to pound into her now overstimulated pussy, he could feel his own urge rush through him and spill out into her.

“Ah..fuck…” he moaned again, spilling completely in her warm and wet core.

“Daryl, no…” she said, but it was too late as she felt him completely fill her. Even she couldn’t deny that when he did it, albeit rarely, she did enjoy the feeling of it.

After a few minutes of blankly basking in their orgasms, with hurried breaths and a layer of sweat coating them, Daryl finally spoke.

“Look at ya…” he admired her.

An exhausted looking smile graced her blushed face and she tucked a hair behind her ear, embarrassed. She sat up, letting him slip out of her and quickly put her underwear and leggings back into place. She reached for her shirt,

“Did you have to do it inside though…” she asked but with a smirk on her face, flinging the fabric over her head. Daryl grunted a laugh,

“Sorry…couldn’t help myself. Ya got me wrapped round ya li’l finger”

She leaned in to give him one more kiss before sliding off his lap and onto the passenger seat beside him, watching as he tucked his cock back into his boxers and jeans.

“Bagsy the shower when we get to Alexandria”

He smiled, “Ain’t know what ‘bagsy’ means but don’t think I need to know” he muttered, starting the engine again. Renée reached over to place her hand over the hand that was not preoccupied with the steering wheel the whole way, a small smile spread across her features.

She felt the warm feeling spread in her abdomen and couldn’t help but think what this could have meant for both of them if she had been able to have children. She knew better than anyone that it wasn’t meant to be and she mightn’t have been a good mother given the emotional trauma in her past.

But every time she was with Daryl…it felt like the first time. She remembered it clearer than ever. She felt like a real woman. Confident, sexual, free.

And now that she had the chance to be, she surprised herself with her actions. Even surprising Daryl sometimes. She didn’t need to be the quiet, timid victim anymore.

She looked over at the man, regarding his features. The stubble on his face, his slightly long hair and fierce blue eyes. She could never hate him. Never. He made her heart swell. He made her life better.

He had taken her in at a preciously delicate time in her life. Something that she didn’t quite knew if he understood. Nonetheless, she was grateful to him.

“It means ‘dibs’” she smiled as they arrived at the gates.

As the couple sprightly got out the car, feeling rejuvenated for some reason. Rick was at the gates and gave Daryl a handshake and Renée a welcoming hug, with a reassuring and friendly smile to go along with it.

“Ready to fight?”

“Damn right” Daryl replied.

 


	53. Chapter Fifty-Three

There was nothing in Renée’s body when she woke from her unwelcomed sleep. Her eyelids felt heavy and there was the startling realisation that she had very little clothing on. She looked around scared, her eyes flickering hurriedly to each corner of the room, observing the sheer filth and darkness of the horrid place.

She was afraid, cold and alone so it seemed. There were cobwebs dangling from the corners of the ceiling, bits of abandoned wallpaper and wall chipping all over the floor as well as unknown stains on the cold concrete ground.

She moved her body but was held back by her wrists. She furrowed her brows in pain and saw that her wrists were held together in handcuffs attached to some kind of heating unit which had clearly outlived its use. Her wrists were red from the irritation of the metal and she felt no use to jingle them around, there was no escape.

She tried to remember what happened. She knew she’d blacked out, a strong arm around her neck and the distant but close vibrations of a man’s laugh.

There was still the warm, dense feeling at the back of her head where she’d been struck, giving her a hell of a headache. Renée looked down at her to find that she was clothed in only her underwear, having left her bra unclothed when she had changed into her pyjamas.

Her eyelids adjusted to the light in the dark, damp room. Her pyjamas were torn up on the other side of the room and what looked like a mannequin handcuffed in the alcove much like she was.

 

 

Her heart almost left her body when the supposed mannequin moved, its head lifting up and out of a sleep. It was a man that could not have been any older than 20, he was naked and noticeably thin, adding to Renée’s thought that he mightn’t have been real. The man’s eyes were sunken and dark with tiredness, his hair was messy and unkempt as well, clearly haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a while.

Renée had opened her mouth to say something to the man, but nothing had come out. Her lips were dry, and she had hardly anything to say. The man simply looked at her, with a look that she could only describe as being one of sympathy and hopelessness, it didn’t fill Renée with hope to see him like that. She tried to sit up but groaned in pain when she felt the handcuffs tug at her.

“Don’t move” he said quietly. The noise amongst the silence startled her a little and she sat still as a wall, “You’ll just make it worse”

The look he gave her was now indescribable. He looked grateful to have another person to speak to, but at the same time saddened by it.

“Where is this?…” she asked, her voice hoarse and crackly. His eyes ever so slightly dropped to the floor. His wrists were contained in front of him, attached with a chain for aid of distance.

“This is a bit like hell” he answered curtly, almost annoyed. He looked back up at Renée, eyes softening immediately.

“Unfortunately I can’t guarantee I’ll be good company, they’ll be turning up soon”

Renée furrowed her brows again, “Who’s ‘they’?…”

There was a look in her eyes now. He saw she was afraid.

“I’m sorry for what’s going to happen…” he said.

Her eyes glazed over with tears and her breath became hurried, “No…no…I need to get out of here…you must be able to get us out, please” she pleaded, but he shook his head. And her tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“There’s no way out. If there was I’d be gone by now” he said, matter of factly.

“No…what are they going to do to me? Just tell me…”

  
He shook his head, turning his head away to not look at her anymore, “I’m sorry. I can’t”

And she continued to weep, for she didn’t know what to expect now. And all she could think about was how she was going to die here, live out the rest of her life miserably. She thought of Negan and the phone call she left. Would he even look for her? Would he even care? If anything, it was more unclear now that it ever had been. But right now, she simply wanted to see him.

For him to take her away from this horrid place.

Her crying halted for a second with the sound of a large car pulling up outside. She could tell it was raining as the tyres made a wet sound as they came to a halt. Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard the car doors closing and the jingle of keys, then the opening of a front door.

She only heard quiet, masculine sounding muffles from other rooms. The odd thump and chuckle. Her eyes watched the door the entire time. She was frightened with the anticipation and she gave her cuffs one last pull before turning back to the man, begging.

“Please, just tell me…” she whispered, not wanting the men to hear her.

But the young man was looking away, head leaning on a wall. Closed away.

Then the door opened, the flimsy wood slamming against the concrete walls carelessly. Renée daren’t look over as she felt her body shaking, tears lining her lashes.

“Good evening, ladies” one man said. His heavy boots made dark wet marks on the concrete floor beneath him, walking over to the young man. Renée only saw his back, but she could see that he was at least mid-thirties, long-ish dark brown hair and a stocky, slightly overweight frame.

That man stopped in front of the young man, looking down at him and fiddling with his zipper on his trousers. Renée looked away, fearing the worst for the poor man but was met with a man who had silently made his way over to her.

He was kneeling in front of her and she could tell that he was younger than the first man. Renée felt no need to study his face but just peered at him through her teary lashes, he had light brown eyes and lighter brown hair, a short beard and a manipulative smile. He wordlessly raised his hand to her face and squeezed her face between his fingers to make her look at him.

There was the constant smirk on his face, his eyes every so often drifting to other parts of her body, she felt the need to hide herself.

“I’ve been waiting for this” he simply said. His voice made her want to vomit. It was his laugh she’d heard as the invader of her home. He was the one who’d choked her.

She tried to shift herself away from him, but she was as far as she could go.

And without even hesitating, the man pulled out a pair of scissors and wrapped one blade around her underwear on her hip. Renée held her breath in her throat, the tears hot on her face and stinging again.

“I can’t wait to play with my new toy” he said, smiling, one hand harshly gripping her thigh and pushing her body to one side.

But she pushed it back, “No…please…” she pleaded. But his smile only grew as he slipped the fabric of her underwear out from under her. For a moment his hands left her and she felt relieved, his hands busy with something at his side instead.

“Oh sweetheart…you can beg all you like”

He used the scissors to cut the duct tape, pressing the tap quickly against her mouth to prevent any screaming. Her eyes began to leak desperate tears as he pressed the tape flush to her skin. He heard her muffled cries.

 

 

“But no matter how much you beg, you’re mine. And I will do what I like with you” he whispered.

Almost instantly, he grabbed her head and pushed it against the concrete floor with an audibly loud thud. He flipped her body over and immediately Renée moved around as much as she could, trying to at least get him off her. Her screams and cries were shortened by the tape at her mouth.

His disgusting hands were still on her body and she felt vile. She could feel the tears making their way down her face now as his knees spread her legs, one of his hands was still holding her head firmly on the ground, pulling at her hair in an effort to shut her up. His other worked on his zipper, stroking himself to get himself prepared.

Briefly Renée opened her eyes, vision blurred by the tears, to see the younger man being orally abused by the first perpetrator and she immediately closed her eyes more firmly, still writhing and screaming.

Wordlessly, the man in between her legs shoved himself into her, her having been unprepared there was a pain that was immeasurable. She screamed louder through the tape as he kept pushing himself into her, hearing his disgusting moans above her now. She felt the horrifying presence of him inside of her, abusing every inch of her worth. Renée thought that if she screamed loud enough, maybe someone would hear her. So she did.

The hand in her hair tightened as he pulled away and shoved back into her harder, making her scream out in even more pain than before. But he paid no mind to her and carried on, abusing the woman below him with brutality that she had never even imagined. The whole order lasted hours in her mind, and for hours she remained crying, or so she felt. In reality, after having had enough after 10 minutes, he finished on the ground and zipped himself back up.

He knelt back to her again, but her gaze was distant, pained and disassociated. He ripped the tape from her mouth without care for her pain and she could really hear herself now. Her wails were hard for her to hear, the man looked at the broken woman.

“Oh sorry…get used to it, sweetheart…you live for me, now”

She swear she felt the warm seep of blood on her thighs and the taste of her own tears.

“…never…b-…yours…” she answered. But it only made him laugh, determined.

And he had left, chuckling to himself. Impressed with his accomplishment.

All while Renée lay there on the floor, feeling not only hatred in her heart but a true sense of demise. The feeling of never truly being found. Being lost in a newer, darker world.

 

 

And she couldn’t help but feel that hatred for the man in the corner of the room. And he only looked at her, even more hopelessness plastered on his face and weighing heavy in the room.

…

Renée pulled the towel from her hair, letting the dark, wet locks fall against her shoulders in small tangles. She took a brush to her hair and attempted to brush the knots out, regarding herself in the bathroom mirror, now fogged up and with only patches of reflective glass.

She had the other towel wrapped tightly around her front and when she’d finished getting most of the knots out her hair, she tied it up in a loose bun. She couldn’t help the small smile on her face when Daryl’s lips kissed at her shoulder softly, his big arms wrapped around her waist and joining at the front. For a while her eyes fluttered closed, savouring the warmth of his body against her bare back.

“Ya smell good” he commented. Renée shrugged slightly, smiling still.

“Water’s nice and hot still, you should shower too”

He rested his chin on her shoulder, blue eyes staring into her reflection, “Ya sayin’ I need one?” he asked. Her green eyes met his bemusedly,

“Said no such thing” she placed her hand over his on her belly, her hands barely covering his, “I need to go see Rick. Michonne said he wanted to see me”

Daryl’s playful look faded and he leaned back, his hands dragging away from her body, “What for?” he asked deeply.

 

 

She shrugged before him again, “I can only imagine he’d like to know more about Negan’s Sanctuary. About how to attack it”

“Or how to kill Negan” Daryl interjected. Renée looked at him for a few moments and shook her head,

“Trust me, if I’d known how to kill Negan I wouldn’t divulge it. Save the pleasure for myself. All jokes aside, he’s just a human like the rest of us, he doesn’t need a silver bullet or a wooden stake through his heart”

“Ya know what I mean”

“Yes I do” she paused, dropping the towel and pulling on a fresh pair of underwear, for a moment drawing Daryl’s gaze away from her face, “However, like I said before, I won’t help with that side of things”

When she had finally pulled some outdoor clothes on, donning a khaki shirt and black bottoms she brushed out her hair from the roots, the ends having dried slightly and tangled.

“Tell me what he says” Daryl said. Renée simply looked over at him, sauntered over and briefly placed her hand in his,

“Always” then she left.

Walking through Alexandria was stranger than she thought it would be. Everyone stared at her, watching her walk by and whispering things about her.

“Isn’t that woman one of Negan’s?” she heard one lady say a little too loudly.

“No, I don’t think so, she’s with Daryl, isn’t she?” the other woman said a little more hushed this time.

Renée’s eyes drifted over to them, to which they were still looking over at her curiously.

The woman shook her head and knocked on Rick and Michonne’s front door, waiting for a response.

“Just a minute!” Rick’s voice was muffled inside their house, as if he was getting dressed hurriedly.

When the door opened, Renée saw that his beard was slightly longer than she had ever known him having, she gave a small smile in greeting to him.

“Mornin’ Renée, come in” he said and she stepped through the threshold wordlessly.

“Come on through, we got a lot to talk about” Rick said and she couldn’t help but be a little caught off guard with what he said.

She entered a room with a large table and a map spread out across it.

“I think you know why I called ya here”

“I think I do, you’re right” she replied flatly.

 

 

“And you know what I’m gonna ask?”

She nodded, leaning against the table, “Yeah I do. And the answer is no and will always be, no”

Rick almost looked defeated. Renée was his last chance of getting to know the ins and outs of Negan’s Sanctuary, but in reality, could not have picked a worse person for it. The woman looked fiercely at Rick, she was not going to back down from this.

“Renée…this is for the sake of our community”

“And you think I owe anything to this community?” she replied harshly, “All this community has ever done for me is alienate me. Even you, Rick. I think you forget that you even put a rift between me and Daryl and everyone else here. I never said anything about it, but people still whisper about me, they think I’m one of them. So tell me, what do I owe this community…what do I owe you”

Rick was shocked at her sudden outburst. She was right in everything she had said, but he was threatened by it. He was caught in lie after lie and she was here throwing those lies at him.

“You don’t owe me anything. Just thought I’d try”

Renée pushed herself off the table, “Yeah well, things might be okay now, but I won’t do that. And when the fight comes here to Alexandria, I won’t fight Negan. I’ll kill his men, any other bastard that tries to hurt me or Daryl…but I won’t fight Negan. As he won’t fight me”

Rick’s eyes flickered to the ground, defeated.

“Goodbye, Rick” she said before walking out of the house. Rick watched her go, as if she were saying goodbye to him forever.

“She’s nothin’ but trouble” Michonne suddenly said from the doorway, Rick didn’t look up at her and instead shook his head,

“She’ll still fight for us, that’s what matters”

Michonne shook her head in denial leaving Rick with the lingering thought that because of Renée’s connection to him, that Negan would win.

 


	54. Chapter Fifty-Four

I listened as Rick told us all about the trash people and their alliance with Alexandria. It was almost comical. Just last night I had told Rick I owe nothing to him, nor anything to Alexandria itself. And he looked almost hurt. How could he look so hurt, when he was the one who did such a horrible thing to come between me and Daryl.

 

I didn’t get him. And at this point I think everybody is beginning to question his authority.

 

He was preaching to us almost, which was fitting being seated in a chapel. He was begging us to be on board with it, as if it were all he had. He had no guns, they did. He didn’t have many fighting people, they did. He looked so stressed, he might have even burst out crying.

 

But he didn’t. He kept his composure, saying that they would stand by them when Negan eventually comes.

 

I said I would fight, and I said that I would not kill Negan. I think Rick secretly loathes me for that.

 

“They will bring their guns, their ammunition and their people. They’ll find along with us” he said. As if his words were gospel. I clenched my fist ever so slightly, gripping Daryl’s knee as well. He looked over at me, but I hadn’t meant for it to be obvious.

 

“We gotta try” he whispered to me, as if reading my mind.

 

But I said nothing in return. I knew what I knew.

 

By the time the meeting was over it was already dark outside and me and Daryl began to walk home together, the first few houses by the gates of Alexandria.

 

“Why ya so against all this?” he asked.

 

“Not against it, I just have my own ideas, thoughts and stuff”

 

He was quiet for a moment, taking a cigarette out his pocket and placing it in his mouth, fumbling in his pockets for the lighter.

 

“When ya think he’s comin’?” he asked, placing his hand against the lighter to shield from the wind.

 

I felt the burn of his first puff in my nose, “Probably soon”

 

“Never been one to stand around” he muttered.

 

I fumbled around in my own pack pocket, to find the photo that Negan had given me when I had been kept at the Sanctuary. It was us, stood next to each other at a school event. He looked so different, as I did as well. I could feel Daryl’s eyes on it as soon as I unfolded it.

 

“What’s that?”

 

I handed him the photo, as if I were giving him some kind of proof that me and Negan knowing each other wasn’t a complete lie. He had his cigarette hanging out his mouth as he looked at it. I couldn’t quite read his expression.

 

“Ya look different”

 

“I know”

 

“Ya look pretty though. Can’t say the same for him”

 

“Well I wouldn’t have thought you’d find him pretty” I joked, pushing his arm a bit.

 

As expected, he didn’t laugh at the joke.

 

“This was the first school event I went to. He was the only one I knew” I said, looking at the picture. Have I smiled like that since then?

 

“Ya sure ya can do this?”  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows, not really sure what he was talking about, “Do what?”

 

“This war, with Negan. He’s gonna roll up at our gates with an army and a shit tonne of guns, I hope ya ready to see a bad side o’ him that’s all”

 

I placed a hand on the porch of our home to sit myself down but Daryl still stood ahead, smoking.

 

I didn’t say a thing for a while and I thought long and hard about what might come out my mouth.

 

“He was always good to me, when we were ‘together’. He never mistreated me. But no matter how well he treated me or how much he still feels for me now, I will never shake that feeling I get when I see him”

 

Daryl blew a puff out his mouth, “What feelin’?” he asked, sounding a little jealous.

 

“It always hurts the first time. The first time you’re abused. The first time you get your heart broken. The first time you’re raped”

 

When I said this, Daryl stood stock still. Feeling the tension of the situation. Feeling the very essence of what I felt.

 

“It never leaves you. And it likely never will. And I put Negan to fault for that night, the night I was taken. But then you turn to blaming yourself”

 

“Ain’t ya fault--”

 

“And I’ve never told you this” I said, looking up at him now, he stopped talking immediately.

 

“But before it all happened, I met him.

 

He was Negan’s baseball friend, another coach from a different school. He introduced us one day when the schools were playing each other”.

 

* * *

 

 

“Renee!” he called. I looked over from the cages to see Negan, smiling and waving towards me. “There you are doll, why ya all the way over here?” he asked.

 

I shrugged, smiling, “Just watching the team play”

 

“Ah, speakin’ of which. This is Ray, he’s the other team’s coach. Ray, Renee”

 

As soon as I looked at him, a cold, weary feeling rushed over me. Like being thrown in a cold swimming pool, like being caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Like someone knows all your secrets and thoughts by merely looking at them.

 

I knew I had a bad feeling about this man. But I shook his hand anyway. Negan was still smiling beside me, glad we had met each other.

 

“We were college roomates, nothin’s changed eh, Ray?!” Negan exclaimed, slapping the man’s back in a manly comradery. They looked so happy together, and my weariness of the man made me not want to tell Negan I felt strange about him. So for the rest of the game, with him stood beside me, barely touching me, I felt his thoughts and heard every single one.

 

* * *

 

“He knew who I was. Him and Negan were very good friends. To think that he would leave me there and go for drinks with Negan afterwards makes me sick. I could barely look at Negan… that day…”

 

A moment of silence passed between us.

 

“And I hit him. And it felt good to hit him, for all he’d done to me.

 

Everytime I see him, I feel it in my body. All that pain and ache.

 

I just…don’t feel safe.

 

So there is no need to be jealous” I said, standing up and taking his free hand. He looked up at me through his hair, “I just want us to be safe, together”

 

After looking at me for a while, Daryl nodded, looking down awkwardly. I placed my hand on his face to pull his lips to mine, putting as much of my love as I could into this one kiss. He tasted like cigarettes, his lips were rougher and I could feel the stubble on his cheeks.

 

But he was my Daryl.

 

When I pulled away from him, I looked up into his eyes.

  
“There will only ever be, you” I said quietly. And a faint smile passed on his face.

 

The screech of the gate pulled us away and the blinding headlights made me squint slightly. Rosita, looking unimpressed, pushed open the gate. Everybody seemed to appear from nowhere to bombard her with questions.

 

“Where’s Sasha?” Jesus asked, worriedly. I couldn’t help but watch, and for a second she looked over at me.

 

“Someone’s here” she simply said.

 

They all went to follow, Daryl included. I walked with Rosita to join them, “Rosita, what’s going on?”

 

She simply looked over at me and said, “You might want to hold Daryl back”

 

It became obvious very quickly what she was referring to. Everyone was crowded around a cell, looking shocked towards a figure in the corner. I couldn’t quite make him out at first, as I was stood behind Daryl. But I felt the need to grab on his arm slightly, taking Rosita’s advice.

 

The figure stood slowly, casting light onto his dark blonde hair and scarred face.

  
It was Dwight.

 

Faster than I could even comprehend, Daryl burst past everybody, my hand slipping from his arm. Dwight didn’t move an inch when Rick held back Daryl, the unspeakable and obvious anger in Daryl’s eyes. He wanted to kill him. And I don’t know if I blamed him for that.

Daryl was still looking at Dwight, like a predator eyeing prey that was already weak.

 

Almost in no time at all, Rick had pulled a gun on the man, who now looked to be genuinely afraid he had made a mistake.

 

“Look at me” Rick said, gun cocked down towards his head. Dwight looked over, his eyes glazing over me for a second before looking right up at Rick.

 

“Why?”

 

“Cause I want it stopped…I want Negan dead” he said quietly.

 

“So why don’t cha kill ‘im?”

 

“Can’t just be me. They’re all Negan”

 

Ah so that’s how it is. Negan fries half your face and you want him dead, but the blood on other people’s hands. Who the fuck is this guy.

 

“That girl you murdered” an upset voice broke through the men’s and Tara leaned over him, eyes glazed with grief and hate all at once, “She had a name. Her name was Denise and she was a doctor, she helped people” she said, almost sniding.

 

And without hardly thinking he said, “I wasn’t aimin’ for her”

 

Daryl, without being held back from Rick, lunged at him again, pulling a large knife from his holster. He pinned the small man to the wall by the scruff of his shirt and pointed the knife right between his eyes. I squeezed past Rick, eyes on Daryl, to see what he would do, and if I needed to stop it.

 

Annoyingly, Tara started whispering ‘do it’. I gave her a warning glance.

 

While I understood she was still hurting from Denise’s death, if she wanted him dead, she should do it herself. I will not have blood pushed onto his hands. She gave me a dirtier look back, as if I were some kind of traitor. I knew what she thought. She thought I was one of Negan’s who just so happened to squirm her way back into Alexandria.

 

Well, Tara, you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.

 

Daryl help him there for a long time, his hand holding the knife in front of Dwight’s face shaking with fury. I stepped forward to put my hand onto Daryl’s shoulder, but decided against it. And in line with my judgement of Daryl, he let the man go and pulled his knife to his side.

 

“Get on your knees” Rick ordered. Daryl now stepping back.

 

And he did so, looking slightly frightened. Especially with Rick’s revolver pointed right at his face.

 

And the silence that filled the room was choking. Dwight looked around, eyes landing on me.

 

“I know ya…”

 

My eyes narrowed, “No you don’t”

 

He almost smiled, but with the gun against his head he didn’t bother to.

 

“Negan does. He knows you’re here”

 

“Good” I simply said. Did he think I was stupid? Of course Negan knows I’m here.

 

Knowing Negan, he probably told some story about how I had escaped with Daryl and how much force he’d use to punish us for it.

 

But I know Negan. When he sees me, he will freeze and pretend he doesn’t care.

 

“Negan’s coming soon…” he paused, and I could hear everyone’s breath in their throats, “Tomorrow”

 

“Maybe 20 saviours, 3 trucks. I could help ya, slow ‘im down a bit so y’all can get ready”

 

“How do you know we can trust you”

 

Dwight paused, realising there was no way he could completely convince anybody he was true by his word.

 

“Ya just gonna have to trust me”

 

And I watched as they carted Dwight out, with the promise that he would try and slow Negan down and help eliminate his outposts one by one. But Daryl and Rick looked on together, suspiciously, as Dwight pulled out of the driveway and disappeared into the humid night.

 

I could see by the look on Daryl’s face, he was both suspicious and afraid. He was anticipating tomorrow and what Negan would do with Sasha. The two said goodbye to each other and Daryl walked towards our home, brushing my shoulder as he walked past.

 

“Ya did say it was gonna be soon”

 

I huffed, following behind him,

 

“Didn’t think it’d be _this_ soon” I said, annoyed.

 

Almost as soon as I closed the front door behind me, I felt a different atmosphere in the room. Daryl walked up to me, hand against my shoulder and shoved me into the closed door. The house was still in relative darkness and I even struggled to see his face before mine. I looked up at him, seeing the gloss of his eyes, his face was the same, stoic, serious. I felt my breath catch in my chest, I was excited.

“Tonight could be our last night” he said quietly, his hand on my shoulder becoming tighter. His knee placed so delicately between my legs. His other hand came to my face, to brush the hair away and to see me better. I must have smiled a little because he smiled back at me, as if thinking something dirty.

 

Slowly, my hands came up to my shirt to pull it off me and Daryl stepped back a little, almost to observe what I was doing. He did nothing to quicken it however, he just wanted to watch.

 

And I stood there in my bra, pulling my hair tie from my head and letting the fluffy brown locks fall against my back. He still stood there, absolutely still. I could see him smirking with his eyes as he looked down at my jeans. I took the silent demand to take them off and unbuttoned them immediately.

 

It was cold here by the door, so the skin on my legs became prickled and raised, I could feel my nipples pressing against my bra.

 

But he took his time slipping his own shirt off, and I saw his chest quickly rise and fall as if he were hot or out of breath. And as he approached me, tucking my leg above his hip and sliding into me, I thought, it felt so good, so right.

 

Like he was the perfect piece of my puzzle, slotting beside me so perfectly. How could he exist, someone so good and right? He made me feel like a goddess in our most intimate moments like this, even when I felt I had the whole weight of the world on me, he could turn it all around with his passion and love.

 

This time, it was not just sex, it wasn’t fucking. We made love right against our door with only the wooden partition to shield us. He excited me, in a way that I had never been before. And as we collapsed against each other, basking in our own bliss, he looked up from having his head in my shoulder and smiled.

  
I could feel his hands on me, cradling me against him. He was longing. Yearning. And I for him.

 

I loved him. I loved him so much I didn’t even need to say it. He knew it.

 

And I just smiled, taking his face in my hands, my chest rising quickly. I looked into his eyes and said simply,

 

“Again”

 

 

 


	55. Chapter Fifty-Five

And yet there they were. The trash people had arrived, a stinking cloud of foul air following them as they came into Alexandria. Every look they gave Renée’s or anyone else’s way, was met with disgust, distrust. They didn’t know these people. But they had to trust in Rick, for there was nothing else they could do. They arrived in garbage trucks, strolling out the back with almost a sense of pride. An array of weapons, amongst guns.

 

The lady with the strange haircut went up to Rick, while Renée accompanied their side at a reasonable distance.

 

“What you fight for”

 

“Not the place, the people. Each other. You’re a part of that now”

 

“We take, we don’t bother. Our way. May be another way” she said, raising a flirtatious brow towards Rick, making Michonne stiffen up beside her. The strange lady gave Rick an up and down glance, before asking her.

 

“He yours?”

 

“We’re together”

 

“I lay with him after. You care?”

 

There was a long awkward silence, making Renée bite her lip to stifle a laugh.

 

“We should get back to work”

 

Michonne only slightly caught the smirk on Renée’s face when she went to walk away.

 

Daryl prepared the explosives, and it was the only time that Renée felt uneasy without his presence at her side. It was so close. Negan was so close. She felt oddly anxious about him not being where she could see him. Shout for him.

 

Mostly the garbage people tended to walk around, not doing much to prepare. Nothing to lose, she thought to herself. She caught a glimpse of Michonne, setting up her sniper on the roofs. No doubt trying to gather the best shot for Negan’s trusty bullet to the brain.

 

And her foot began to tap with the nervousness. She’d never felt like it before. The hair on her arms stood on end and couldn’t help but feel the chill in the air because of it. Already wearing a jacket with her usual attire, she put the feeling down to her own self-doubt.

 

The sounds of warning filled the air and Rick barked out a few orders. Daryl positioned himself next to Renée finally. Guns in both their arms.

 

Eugene’s annoying voice shouted out, nervously. He was so fucking annoying, she thought and thought Daryl thought the same. Rosita no doubt did.

 

Eugene only dug the hole deeper when he said he was Negan. Gone, dead to the world.

 

What a fucking sell out.

 

And it obviously had Rick agitated.

 

There was a moment of panic and absolute silence when the explosion didn’t happen. And without a moment’s notice, guns were drawn on them all. The trash people had fucking had them, by the balls, guns out and all.

 

Daryl and Renée raised their guns around them, in front of her, was a man with a dark brown ponytail, eyes gazing with hatred. But with nothing to hate, pointed his barrel straight at her. And she had done the same almost instinctively, as if knowing these people were no way trustworthy.

 

But her breath caught in her throat when the gate opened and her eyes fell on him.

 

There he was. Cocky as ever and as slimy of a bastard she thought he would try and be. Negan. Red scarf, black leather jacket and trusty Lucille draped over his shoulder. He was smiling on his approach, as if he were sticking up the middle finger already.

 

But he didn’t look at her yet. He was busy making his dick look twice as big as it really was.

 

“Ya ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit but didn’t know shit and got everyone that he gave a shit about killed? It’s about you. Y’all gonna wanna put ya guns down now”

 

“Nobody drops anything. We had a deal” he sneered to the woman, now with a gun to his temple.

 

“Made a better deal…” the strange lady said.

 

It’s almost as if Rick could recall every little insecurity or opinion about these people that anyone had ever said, because he looked mighty pissed off that for once in his precious life, he’d been wrong.

 

“You pushed me and you pushed me. And you pushed me, Rick! Ya just tried to blow us up right? I mean I get me! But my people…? But Eugene…? He’s one of yours. And after what he did, he stepped up! You people are animals! Universe gives you a sign and you just…shove your finger right up its ass! Dwight, Simon! Chop chop!”

 

The two men crawled up onto the truck, tearing some cables down. Renée looked over at Daryl, gun still in her arms, ready. And he gave a warning glance back, laced with worry. Nothing OTT, he thought, or else this would be ugly.

 

It was a coffin, I saw. And the way they carried it. There was something inside.

 

“So you don’t like Eugene anymore…guys gotta like Sasha” he placed his hand on his heart, “I do too”

 

Something squeezed tight about Renée’s heart at the words.

 

“Got her right here packaged for your convenience. Alive and well. I bought her…so I wouldn’t have to kill all of you and not _killing_ all of you…could get complicated! See I know there’s a lot of fire power left in there Rick. So I’ma make this simple. I want all the guns you managed to scrape up. Yup. I know about those too”

 

That smirk danced across his face.

 

“I want every last grain of lemonade you got left. I want a person of your own choosing…for Lucille”

 

“Daryl…” Renée’s body tensed, “…oo, I gotta get me my Daryl back. I see you”

 

He didn’t give Negan anything but a long, tight glare.

 

“And my Renée…” he said. And she finally gave in and looked forward towards him, not past him, right at him.

 

And it was the first time he had looked her way since he arrived. And how he regretted it.

 

His smile faltered for a second when he saw her there, his people’s guns pointed at her. But he quickly straightened, smirk on the face again, proud.

 

“I gotta bring you in…make ya mine like old times…” he said slowly. And she could only shake her head. Not in disagreement.

 

But disappointment.

 

He had become exactly what she’d predicted. Playing up the dick, for the ego. And it banged his cold heart, to watch her disappointed glare.

 

“And the pool table! And all the pool cues and chalk and I want it now…or Sasha dies”

 

“And then all of you!…probably” he smiled.

 

“C’mon Rick. Just ‘cos I bought her in a casket, doesn’t mean she has to leave in it”

 

Rick said nothing.

 

Negan grasped his brow and sighed, “Ya know what! You suck ass, Rick! You really do! I don’t wanna have to kill her but that’s exactly what you’re gonna make me do!”

 

“Lemme see her…” he finally said.

 

Negan laughed, “Oh…alright! Just gimme a second, gonna have to get her up to speed, can’t hear shit inside this crap…”

 

_Knock, knock._

 

“Sash…you’re not gonna believe this thing!”

 

The world seemed to slow down as Sasha’s dead body lunged to Negan, knocking him off his truck. Renée gasped, stepping back and watching Rick on the platform. The first shots rang through. The wordless command and Renée’s first bullet met the ponytailed man.

 

Renée took one glance at Daryl and he had to her, his gun was against his shoulder, shooting through the garbage people. And without needing to say a word stepped away into the sea of people, shooting the people she didn’t recognise. Anybody. It only took one shot a lot of the time, maximum two. But every shot she took, made her feel on top of the world.

 

Those feelings, the ones buried under. They rose up onto the surface, every shot like a dash of ecstasy in her blood, like striking the needle into the vein first time lucky. And it wasn’t long before the dead Alexandrians began to litter the street.

 

A bullet flew past her and she crouched beside a car, the bullets aimed for her making a blunt sound in the other side. She used the moment to check the ammunition. Not much left, she thought. It would have to do. Worse comes to worse, she could always use her machete.

 

She leaned over the car and shot at the man, who took cover behind the bricks of a house. Not being able to get a good shot, she slowly got closer. Almost too close.

 

And as if by the chance of fate, she had no bullets and drew her machete, the man crouched in front of her, missing his last bullet. She swung at him, but he caught her arm and twisted it around her back, hands twisting the skin of her wrist. He pushed her against the concrete wall, other hand securely entangled in her hair, pulling the thin strands without care of her pain.

 

He twisted her arm more, making her cry out in pain, smashing her head against the concrete wall as he laughed to himself.

 

“You’re all just weak…” he said. It was clear he was a saviour. His grip on her skin was hard and tough. She felt the emerging pulse of pain in her head.

 

She pulled her other arm free and elbowed him in the stomach, he held his stomach in pain, eyes screwed shut. And when he’d opened them, Renée, with blood dripping from the side of her head down her jaw, pushed her foot against his chest. He fell to the floor and almost immediately tried to steady himself, he put one of his hands out her.

 

“Wait! Stop!” He begged. But before he could beg more, Renée shoved her machete into his other hand, nailing him to the grass below. His scream was bloodcurdling and Renée shook her arm from the pain of his twisting, it still aching slightly.

 

She looked over him, some strands of her hair stuck to her face with her blood. She could feel the same feelings she had felt so long ago, with Thomas, starting to rise in her body again. She wiggled her fingers into fists and out again, watching him try to pull the large knife from his hand, but being too weak to do so. She remembered killing the guard back in Thomas’ compound, The way she wrapped both her hands around his neck and watched his eyes roll back, watching his skin turn blue and purple.

 

Remembering feeling powerful at the time, she pulled the belt from her jeans and wrapped it around his neck quickly, placing her body on top of his. He obviously protested, but could only stretch out one of his hands. But her look into his eyes, told him. And he knew, it was all over. Renée saw the faux leather pressing right into his neck, almost making the lines appear black and blue.

 

She felt her chest rise and fall so fast, almost in excitement. So she stretched the belt more, until the man lay limp beneath her. She almost had not realised that she was still tightening around his neck for a few seconds. She sat herself up and watched his limp, dead body.

 

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the machete from his hand and suddenly, had the feeling she was being watched. And there, crouching behind a car, baseball bat as a crutch for his gun was Negan. He was looking over at Renée, his eyes drawn to the blood dripping now down her neck. He couldn’t help but feel a bit protective when he saw her injured. But his troubles were dashed when Renée pulled the dead Saviour’s gun from him and hung the strap over herself.

 

He half though she would aim the gun at him. But she simply walked away.

 

Negan was afraid, she thought. Renée could hear the odd additional gunshots and in the corner of her eye, she saw the Kingdom’s people, unleashing their own weapons onto the Saviours and trash people. But she could not feel at ease, Saviours were still shooting at them all, not scared off yet.

 

She had her sights set on finding Daryl once again. She couldn’t help but feel concerned for him, she knew what he was like. Tried to do too much at the same time.

 

Lodging a few bullets into some Saviours who tried to do the same to her, she looked around frantically. And she saw him in the distance, with an abomination of a weapon. A man had his gun drawn on him from one of the porches,

 

“Daryl!” She shouted at him.

 

Renée raised her gun quickly and placed three bullets into his body, rendering him limp.

 

And she couldn’t help the smile on her face, putting her gun back to her side, when Daryl turned around and was so happy to see her alive, that he smiled at her. He lowered his own gun, nodding to almost thank her for shooting the man. Renée smiled back, happy, tears in her eyes with the happiness. The war was very nearly almost over, Negan was hiding in a corner with a gun he couldn’t shoot very well and the garbage people had begun to retreat.

 

Daryl went to walk towards her, to hold her and Renée simply smiled watching him.

  
She could only recall the loud shotgun sound and the jolt at her side after that. Her body jerked forward and her hand instinctively went to her side, she looked down and at first, there was nothing. But then, another jerk, this time through her right breast. The latter more painful than the first, she dropped to her knees, her hand going to the new wound. She looked up to Daryl, who looked instantly devastated. He raised his gun to the man and Renée turned slightly, seeing a Saviour pointing his gun towards her again. Renée witnessed the bullet entering his chest and then his skull. He hit the ground within the second.

 

Renée blinked slowly, only now feeling the freeing flow of blood on her hand. Cold but warm at the same time. And with the flow went her strength and she let herself fall to the floor as well, Her hand still weakly cradling her newest wound through her breast. She could feel her breathing faltered already as she tried to hold the blood in, her eyes scanning across the sky above her. The faint sounds of gunshots around her, she blinked slowly and laid still.

 

Daryl, panicked, ran over, sliding his knees against the concrete.

 

“Fuck… Renée baby, you’re okay.I’m just gonna…” he pulled her body up and over his knees, placing one hand over her wound, seeing that herself she couldn’t do it with more force than usual.

 

She could see the tears welling in his own eyes through her foggy vision. She could see her own eyes shaking, her body becoming numb and cold. Daryl, over his lover’s laboured breathing, shouted for help, for anything to save her. And as he tried all this, Renée felt the faint trickle of blood from her mouth and down her neck.

 

Shaking, she raised her hand and placed it on Daryl’s arm and his head whipped back to her,

 

“It’ll be okay, someone will come. You’ll be okay”

 

“No…” she managed. Daryl simply looked at her, “…it’s too much…” she said. Daryl pulled his hand away, finding that a lot of her blood had leaked through his fingers anyway. Her clothes were sticky with the stuff and her first wound, though not nearly as destructive, was bleeding anyway. The gun had pierced her breast and Daryl could not help but look at the insides and the fat that had burst open and were scattered across the concrete, alongside her growing pool of oily blood.

 

“No, ya can’t give up. Someone’s gonna fix ya up” he said, almost desperately. Trying to convince her that everything was alright.

 

“Daryl…stop…” she begged. But Daryl held her there on his lap, hoping that there would be some chance it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

 

Renée gave a sad smile, placing her hand on his face pulling him closer. Delicately, she placed her lips onto his with all her strength. When she pulled away, she looked up at him.

 

“I don’t…don’t want to die…” she said to him.

 

The words broke his heart.

 

She mustered all the breath and strength she could to get her words out of her mouth,

 

“B-but…if I’m going to die…I’ll do it with you…” she said, tears falling down her cheeks.

 

He shook his head, cradling her head with his bloody hands, “Baby, no, ya can’t talk like that now…”

 

She gave him a small, sad smile. The world seemed to go quiet and she hadn’t noticed the crowd of people gathering around her as the battle subsided. Her eyes seemed to flicker, as if her last little bits of strength were concentrated on keeping her eyes open to look at him.

 

Daryl had finally let his tears fall, turning to Maggie who was standing beside him. He wordlessly asked if there was any help, but Maggie simply looked at Renée and then at Daryl, holding his gaze for a moment before shaking her head. Rick had not yet arrived and probably would not come back to see a happy ending to it all. But at this moment, Renée and Daryl were the only two people left in the world.

 

“Daryl…” she whispered, grabbing his attention. For some reason, he thought, she was still giving him a weak smile.

 

She placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it gently to let him know she was still present with him. Her other hand was strayed to the side, too weak to lift.

 

“Remember…remember when we burned that place to the ground…” she asked.

 

Daryl nodded, “Yeah…yeah I do” he said, upset.

 

“Remember our shack…the lake…those nights in your cell…”

 

“Yeah…”

 

She smiled just ever so slightly wider, “I love those times with you…”

 

His eyes narrowed, letting his tears fall down his face, “I know baby, me too…”

 

In a jolt of pain, her hand left his arm and grabbed her first wound, riding through the pain and giving a short cry.

 

“…do not ever…feel guilty for the things that happened…to me, okay?”

 

She inhaled sharply, but as soon as she did so, seemed to all but deflate.

 

“These scars are mine…just mine…”

 

“Baby…” he said, almost asking her to stop. Still believing in himself there was some way.

 

“I love you…and I’ll wait…”

 

He didn’t entirely know what she meant by that she would wait, only that she entirely meant what she was saying. But her mouth continued to move, ‘I’ll wait…’ she would say, over and over, as if having to tell herself.

 

Daryl seemed to look into her eyes the whole time, unmoving.

 

He hadn’t known how long he’d been there, watching her speak to him. Hours…perhaps. He had noticed the sun was low now, the shadow of Renée grew long.

 

And it was only here that Daryl had realised how cold she was, her body radiated a dense, freezing feeling. His eyes red and dry from tears, but they widened and he had realised that Renée’s eyes were motionless. Dry. Empty.

 

“Renée?…baby?…” he said. But her mouth, eyes did not move. The blood had now become dry and crusted on her face.

 

“Fuck…no…baby please”

 

He placed his arms around her back and pulled her body towards him, her head placed in the crook of his neck. His palm stroked the back of her head, now soaked with her blood.

 

“Don’t leave me baby…please…” he begged, whispering. Speaking only to her. Almost out of his usual character, he let his tears fall down his face now. Realising that there was nothing left of her anymore.

 

He wondered for a moment what he would do without her and could not bear the thought of waking the next day with her not beside him. He regretted all the moments where he took advantage of her, where he did not appreciate her.

 

But these were just things that amongst his grief, bought out the ever so present guilt he had for the things he’d done to her.

 

In the crowd of people who stood by, Rick had finally arrived, hearing the cries of his friend. His eyes fixated on the massive pool of blood beside Daryl and the woman in his arms. It didn’t take him long to piece together what had happened.

 

Daryl gently placed her in front of him, her eyes staring off into nothing, mouth slightly open. Daryl couldn’t help but feel the ache of his heart.

 

Gently, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, he placed her down on the concrete and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, to cry once again.

 

Everyone was silent. Shocked. Maggie could not help but look on and feel so much emotion for Daryl, seeing his lover literally torn inside out her whole life and then shot down so quickly right in front of him. Rick was in awe over them both, feeling so much empathy for Daryl, but more so sadness for the now lifeless body of Renée, still slowly bleeding out her last.

 

And when the sun kissed the horizon, Daryl pulled his palms over his face and looked once again at Renée. Hours had passed. And so had she.

 

And his eyes widened slightly to realise that in the hours since her death, she had not turned.


	56. Chapter Fifty-Six

They carried her body inside like it was the most precious thing. Dry, flaky blood danced to the floor as well as the accompanying small drops of bright red blood that was still leaving her body.

 

Daryl had not spoken a word. He’d attempted to carry her body in himself, but even with his strength, his knees buckled under the weight of her very death. He had not, and did not plan to, place the knife in her skull. It had been hours after her death at this point and her eyes were still that vibrant shade of green Daryl had known of her in life. Her skin was pale, but barely dead.

 

They placed her body, Maggie, Rick and Daryl, onto the coffee table in the house that the couple had once shared. It was Rick who had dared to speak up first.

 

“Daryl…” he said quietly. The man had his head held low, eyes stationed far from anyone else’s but hers.

 

“We’ll help get ‘er cleaned up, for the ceremony”

 

“Nah” he suddenly said, Maggie sadly looking over at him. “I’ll do it”

 

“Dary—”

 

“Rick” Maggie stopped him, shaking her head, “Let ‘im do it”

 

Rick examined Maggie’s face for a moment, before looking towards his friend and without wanting to at all, nodded his head in agreement.

 

“If ya need help…ya know where we are” Rick said as he left. Maggie followed wordlessly behind.

 

And Daryl was left with her, body just placed onto the table as if she were cargo. He felt angry that her body had been treated no longer like a humans. But something to burn and forget.

 

Without letting himself think about it too much, he picked her body up and took her upstairs to the bathroom. He remembered carrying her many times to their bed in the prison when she’d fallen asleep and then, her head had been resting in his neck, soft breaths tickling his skin. But now, her head hung past his arm, eyes open, looking at nothing.

 

He placed her in the bathtub, the blood creating streaks in the porcelain almost immediately. Kneeling beside it, he flicked out his pocket knife and with the scissor tool, began to cut her clothes off her. His eyes strayed to her chest, still and empty. That day she had been wearing a vest top with one of his button ups over it, as she was always cold. By now, his button up hung off her and he simply cut the thing to shreds.

 

Pulling the bits of clothing from the bathtub, he slid the blade against her vest right up the centre. He was careful to avoid the bullet wounds at her right side, almost not wanting to see them at all. Soaked with blood, he peeled the clothing outwards, grimacing slightly when he was pulling threads from her most serious wound at her breast. Having to pull her body up so that he could completely rid the garment, made his eyes glaze over with tears.

 

It felt wrong, he thought. It felt wrong to unbutton her jeans to reveal her nakedness. Until he had to cross that bridge, her untied her shoelaces and pulled her boots and socks off, looking strangely normal despite her upper torso. His hands fumbled with her buttons on her jeans and slowly unzipped them.

 

“Fucking shit!” he cursed, pushing himself back and sitting on the toilet. Looking at the scene before him, he let one tear fall. He was more angry than sad, if he were being truthful to himself.

 

 _Why’d yd have to go?_ He thought.

_We were so close…_

 

She had literally been smiling the mere second before she got shot. All Daryl remembers was her confused, hurt face as she looked down to her blood-soaked hand, clutching the wound she had just received. He closed his eyes, merely thinking about it sending him back down that deep, dark pit in his heart.

 

He took a sharp breath in, went over and pulled her jeans off, taking underwear with it. He looked at her deep, dark scar that lined her lower stomach and almost felt himself wretch. Carefully, he took the blade to the last article of clothing, her bra, which was hanging simply on one side since she had been shot in the breast. As he took it off, he winced at the sight of her fatty inside spilling out.

 

He couldn’t lay her to rest looking like that.

 

He turned the taps on the bath to turn on the shower head, innately making sure that it wasn’t too hot, although it did not matter. He rolled up his sleeves and placed the shower head against all the places where she’d been dirtied with blood, watching as it pulled up to wash down the drain. When she was finally clean, he rubbed the shower gel between his fingers to wash her body, feeling not in the slightest bit weary of touching her dead form.

 

He rubbed some shampoo in her scalp, to clean the dry blood from it and then rummaged the drawers for the sewing kit. This was the part he did not want to do, he thought. To take a needle to his partner to sew her fatal wounds together. He couldn’t think of a worse job. His hands were shaking as he neared closer to her.

 

It was almost too easy, the way the needle slid through her skin, connecting the hole shut. And when he had made it look as good as it was ever going to, he stepped back to look at her. Her whole right breast absolutely destroyed, as if the man had taken away the last bit of her womanly nature before her death. He sighed, placing a hand on her face, running his thumb over her cheek like he had always done before. Half expecting her eyes to flutter closed in content, his heart sank when they didn’t.

 

He laid a towel on the floor and lifted her body out of the tub and onto it, placing another dry towel on top of her. He scrunched her hair in the towel, dabbing all the little droplets off her body. The only thing he could think was how lifeless she looked here on the floor. And how full of life they were the night before, sending off the evening how they usually did.

 

He rifled through Renee’s clothing drawers, pulling out some fresh clothes to dress her in for her ceremony. Pulling out a shirt, he saw two bulky, sealed envelopes tucked beside the rest of her clothes. Confused, he pulled them out. ‘Daryl’ and ‘Negan’ in her handwriting, written on both of them. He initially felt the surge of rage at seeing his name, feeling sick that she was even associated with him. He threw Negan’s letter back in the drawer and closed it harshly, placing his own gently on the nightstand.

 

He dressed her appropriately in what she would usually wear and placed her on the bed, hair dry and clean. As if nothing ever happened, he thought.

 

He dreaded sending her off. He didn’t want to show how truly devastated he would be, watching her body burn. He knew that she would want to be burned after she died. She’d never spoken about it in actuality. But she wasn’t the type of woman to want to be buried six feet under and he couldn’t exactly explain to himself why he thought that way.

 

Her backpack in the corner of the room caught his eye in thought and he shuffled over to it on his knees to take a look at what was inside. The last little bits of her life, all in this backpack.

 

The first thing he pulled out was a cardigan, something she never would have worn now, but something worth keeping. He bought the fabric to his face, it smelled like her, he thought.

 

Another small look revealed a few photos of different colourations, depending on their age. The oldest was a small child, presumed to be Renee, with a tiny baby in her arms. She was sat cross-legged on the burgundy floor, leaning against some brickwork. The photo _looked_ old. And the baby looked so tiny and sickly, that Renee in comparison seemed to be gleaming.

 

He remembered she’d told him about her baby brother and how his death bought all the events into motion.

 

The second photo was much newer and seemed to have been ripped from a frame. It was a group photo, a teacher’s group photo. He caught her face immediately and smiled at the laughing expression she was giving off. But the presence of Negan beside her, obviously having his hand around her waist, soured his smile.

 

He flicked that one away quickly.

 

The last few were newer and they seemed to be Polaroid pictures. Daryl remembered Glenn having such a camera back at the prison. The first was a photo of Daryl and Renee, she was sat on the ground between Daryl legs, one arm softly held by her. He felt the hot tears well up. They were around the fire at the prison just before the Woodbury thing had happened. He admired her face there, how happy she was.

 

 _Before,_ he thought, _I let that happen to her…_

Guilty, he placed the photo down and glazed across the last photo. Another candid one of her and Daryl. They were at the gates of the prison, Renee on walker duty and holding her pipe to ram in their skulls. Daryl was behind her, arms guiding her almost. And Glenn had captured the perfect moment when Renee looked back to Daryl with a loving smile on her face. One second after that moment, Renee was calling Glenn a pervert.

 

But he was glad he could relive that moment. He remembered it better than most. He could still see the red, crimson sunset across the clouds that day.

 

He placed it on his bedside, next to the letter he was due to read. And as he looked back to his lover, whose eyes were distantly facing the corner of the room, he thought for a moment that she was alive and was about to open his mouth. But quickly clamped it shut, feeling the tightening feeling of crying in this throat once again.

 

It was dark outside now and Daryl had been waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Rick and Michonne to arrive, they said they would come when the funeral was prepared. He was flicking his pocket knife around in his fingers in boredom, picking at the skin there too in anxiety. There was a gentle knock and Daryl opened the door to find the melancholy couple there, Michonne staring to the ground.

 

“Ya ready?...”

 

Daryl shrugged a little, angrily bemused by the question. Of course he wasn’t ready to place his lover to rest.

 

“Sure”

 

Rick stepped in.

 

“She’s upstairs…” Daryl mumbled.

 

The group slumped upstairs to find Renee on what was once the couple’s bed. She had been cleaned, her hair still ever-so-slightly damp and all the blood had been washed away. Rick seemed almost impressed. Had she not looked so pale she could look alive, he thought.

 

“I’ll carry ‘er…” Daryl said simply, scooping her body up into his arms. Rick only nodded, intending to have lent a hand, but it was obvious Daryl wanted to do it all. Almost possessive.

 

Out the house, Daryl could see the residents of Alexandria placing wood underneath a wooden slat. Maggie, Rosita, everyone, had sullen looks on their faces. They had poured gasoline over the wood so it would light easier and they’d decorated the slat where her body would lay with flowers picked from outside the gates and people’s gardens.

 

The reality had hit Daryl like a freight train. He stood stock still, staring at the pyre where eventually her body would burn. His eyes were glazed over now, his arms shaking as he held her. He took a look at her face, her eyes still partially open and blinked hard, letting one tear make its way across his eye.

 

And now his steps were heavy as he neared the group of people who crowded around in the pitch black night to watch her send-off. Daryl gently placed her on top of the slat, her body now surrounded by a plethora of wild, beautiful flowers, he almost smiled at how she looked. He placed his hands against the slat and simply looked over her, biting his lip to distract from the pain inside his chest.

 

He placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead softly, placing his thumbs over her eyes to close them. He choked in his chest, the grief finally bubbling up inside him to flood with tears. Instinctively placing a hand over his mouth to quieten his cries, his head rested on her torso, his hands grasping hers tight. The faint whispers, over and over again of ‘ _Please don’t leave me’_ and ‘ _Can’t do this’_ making the group’s collective heart ache.

 

His eyes catch her hand, where her ring was sat on her first finger. The ring he had given her on a run and she spotted a ring in an abandoned jewellery shop. He gave it to her as a promise. And in his own mind, he had broken that promise. With tears threatening to spill from his eyes, he removed the ring from her finger and clutched it tightly to his chest. It was small, but he promised himself he would wear it.

 

_‘Daryl…’_

 

His head zipped up so fast and he was so quiet. As if he had heard a whisper right by his ear but nobody was around. It was her, he thought. He held his breath tight in his throat. She sounded sad, longing.

 

“Daryl” Maggie said, he turned around to see Maggie behind him. Her hand reached out to place on his shoulder in comfort, her eyes were glazed as well. She nodded her head to him, understanding how he felt. Not wanting to let go.

 

He shook his head in return, his head falling onto her shoulder and just letting go of all the emotion he held. Maggie reassured him, or tried to at least, as he let it all out. She guided him to the rest of the group to watch as Rick assumed the stand in front of Renee’s body.

 

At first Rick wasn’t sure what to say. Renee had been with them since the prison, she was a very long standing member of his group. And he had failed her.

 

“We’re here today, to celebrate the life of Renee…” he paused.

 

“Williams…” Daryl said, remembering how he had teased her about it once.

 

Rick nodded, “To celebrate the life of Renee Williams.

 

She was fearless, she was strong…and she was family.

 

She sacrificed so much for our safety and for that we owe her our lives. She fought proudly today, even if she did not want to fight. May she rest in peace, knowing that one day, Negan will not look over us anymore”

 

Daryl thought that she wouldn’t like what he just said, but he didn’t dwell on it. Rick took a torch form one of the civilians and held it out to Daryl, nodding his head. Daryl sniffed, placing the ring in his hand on his smallest finger, taking the torch from Rick as he passed by him. He stood before her body, flames in hand. For a moment he studied her face, her hair, every bit. He had lost the most previous thing in his life, the one person who understood him. Who loved him, despite the wrong.

 

“’m sorry…babygirl…” he said quietly.

 

He placed the torch on the gasoline soaked wood and stepped back slightly. Watching as the flames raked their way up the wooden supports to her body. He could almost feel the prickly, hot pain she would be feeling on his own skin as he watched.

 

A small tear ran down his face, “…’m sorry…” he repeated.

 

The fire quickly grew, but all Daryl could do was watch. He had dropped his torch long ago and was now stood stock still before his burning lover.

 

_‘Daryl…’_

That whisper again. Daryl eyes zipped up again and Renee was right there, stood before her own dead and burning form. Looking down at herself sadly.

 

Daryl’s breath caught in his chest when she looked up to him, she was wispy and floaty, so much so that Daryl knew she was not real. She smiled a little and walked through the pyre to be stood in front of him. She was blurry and had an almost white cast over her. Her lips moving but nothing came out for a few seconds.

 

And then, her voice was as clear as a bell in his mind.

 

 _‘Daryl…’_ as if she was alive right in front of him, _‘…don’t you dare feel guilty…’_

He began to cry again, head held low. And Renee’s form wrapped her arms around him, he visibly softened in her arms and his cries were quieter now. Her hands rested on his back, he could almost feel their warmth. She cradled his face to make him look at her, her lips moving again,

 

 _‘…I will still wait for you…’_ she said.

 

He had remembered her last words to him were that she would wait for him. And he had only now figured out what she had really meant. She had known on the ground that she was going to die, so she made the promise to wait for him, on the other side.

 

With a blink, her form was gone and he felt the hollow knock of his heart again. Without thinking, his eyes returned to her body on the pyre, truly on fire now, and dropped to his knees. Maggie stood by next to him, a hand supportively on his shoulder.

 

Did he imagine it, he thought. It would be more concerning if it were real. He had seen Merle a few times since his death and Beth as well, but always pushed them away for being pure imagination. He couldn’t deny the warm, comforting feeling that her form had given him just now.

 

He mainly sat in dead silence as her body burned, the smell was the worst part of it. But he just kept looking at the ground, smoke billowing into the air and Maggie’s hand always perched on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. Both of their lover’s had come to their end at the fault of Negan, now both of them wanted revenge. Revenge in the form of a slow death.

 

It was the tender hours of the morning before Daryl had finally erupted from his thoughts, he didn’t want to see her cremated body and decided to stand to look at Maggie, who had spent the whole night looking after him. Their eyes met and she could only offer a sympathetic glance to him,

 

“She didn’t deserve this…” he said quietly. The group had dismantled shortly before and gone to bed, so now the two of them simply remained.

 

“They never do” she replied.

 

He nodded in return, making the effort not to look over at the body on the pyre. He turned and simply mumbled, “’m going to bed”

 

“Okay, Daryl” Maggie said, knowing there was nothing she could say to lift him.

 

Once he got inside, the formidable shake of loneliness hit him. The house was too big now and he thought that only the night before, they had made love against the door. She had felt so alive then.

 

He suddenly remembered to go upstairs and once he sat on the bed in their room, he slid the letter from the nightstand and looked at it for a moment, admiring her handwriting with his name. He almost didn’t want to open it, believing it to be too precious.

 

But reluctantly he peeled the back carefully and pulled papers out, unfolding the first to read.

 

_Hi Daryl._

_I think you know what this is, but I’ve only written it just in case something unexpectedly happens to me. The last thing I want you to think is that I expected this to happen._

_So I’m dead right now. That’s the only reason you might have found this letter. I’m writing yours first, but don’t be angry that I’ve written one for Negan too. His isn’t going to be nice._

_I have so many things to say in this letter, so many it’s really hard to think how to start. But I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I have done things that I am not proud of, some things you know about and some that you don’t. But you don’t need to know everything, you just need to know the things I’m sorry about._

_The first is how I acted towards you. I come across as a nasty piece of work sometimes, especially in the beginning. That attitude can’t just be chopped down to something traumatic that happened to me, because that’s just not fair. I’m sorry for being a dick in the beginning. And I can’t shake the feeling that the first night we had in the shack, I pressured you into something you might not have wanted to do and those feelings have stuck with me. So if you didn’t want to, I am sorry I forced you into it.  
Now that I think about it, there are so many sorries I owe. I used to want to apologise for the woman I was and that I couldn’t give what other women could. I used to want to say sorry for you being with me, as I’d thought you deserved much better. I had dreams about a family with you, starting something that would last the test of time. And no matter when you read this or however old we are, I’m sure we had a good life together. _

_Sorry aside. There are just as many ‘thank yous’ I need to give. You made me feel loved. So loved that sometimes I doubted the authenticity of it all. You were the one who found me in the woods that day and thank you for giving me that chance. I remember feeling so ashamed of myself before that, that I’d wanted to kill myself. I must have been a mess that day. I can’t remember much of it._

_Thank you for making me feel desirable. There are a number of things that didn’t make me feel that way, most I am sure you know. But it’s hard to cast those aside and be loved by someone who isn’t repulsed by it all. I didn’t think that could happen to me after I escaped._

_I realise this is getting a little sappy now writing it all down. And I realise that you probably know all this. You know I love you. You know we’ve been through the pains of a relationship as well. But you know that I feel all this about us. And that’s the only thing that matters to me._

_As long as you know how much I truly care for you, nothing else matters, Daryl. I live for your happiness. Even when I am gone (which I’m sure I am if you’re reading this far), I still want you to be happy. Do whatever you can, to make yourself happy. We made a life together, as a couple and there’s no way I’m going to forget it._

_Take care of yourself, Daryl. You don’t need me to say I love you. You know that already._

_Your,_

_Renee._

 

Smiling, with a single tear in his eye, he thought he did know it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	57. Chapter Fifty-Seven

Renee opened her eyes wide, taking in a long, loud breath that seemed to inflate her. She was laid on the ground, it was hard and unforgiving so much so that when she went to get up, it was very uncomfortable. She looked around to find that everywhere was white, perhaps the starkest white she had ever seen. It almost made her eyes hurt looking at her surroundings. She eventually got to her feet, confused, lost.

 

She didn’t remember anything and she thought to herself what kind of place this could be. There was no sound, no light or dark, nobody even. _Where the hell am I,_ she thought. This place seemed to go on forever, so she took a few steps in each direction, but the plains only seemed to lengthen.

 

“Renee”

 

She zipped around to see two figures standing before her, they were both quite tall, a man and a woman. One had black raven hair and the other auburn red, tied up into a bun.

 

“Who are you?” she asked confused. The woman turned to the man beside her, confused herself and looked back at her.

 

“You know who we are”

 

“Well obviously I don’t, who are you” she asked harshly.

 

“Your father got himself killed in prison. I committed suicide, slit my wrists” she answered, Renee furrowed her brows. “We just wanted to see our Renee and here you finally are”

 

Renee’s eyes widened with realisation, her parents. She hadn’t seen them in…what…20 odd years? She backed away as the person, who claimed to be her mother, neared her.

 

“We’ve been waiting for you, Renee” their voices echoed each other and a chill went down her spine at hearing her father’s voice.

 

“No, you’re not my parents” she said, shaking her head.

 

“We’re here for you now” she said.

 

“You were never my parents!” she shouted at them. Her mother, slits visible on her wrists, pulled her hands back, seemingly crushed at what she’d said.

 

“Renee” a voice sounded so close, it could have been inside her ear made her turn around again.

 

Her breath caught in her throat. He was disgustingly rotten and grey and his face seemed to hang in a strange way, but she recognised his face. It was _him._

“There she is” he walked towards her, but she was frozen in fear. As if by a cruel trick, his face seemed to morph back to his alive state. He had a smirk on his face and she recognised him almost instantly.

 

“Hello sweetheart” there is was again, his nickname for her. The one she used to kill men for if they ever called her that. She could see that he had a bullet shaped hole in his head, where she had shot his dead form.

 

“Did not expect to see you here so early”

 

“What do you mean” she cursed through her teeth as he neared her. He chuckled,

 

“You still don’t get it do you. I thought you had a brain in that pretty little head of yours”

 

He seemed to reappear right in front of her, hand firmly around her neck and squeezing tightly. He still had that smirk on his face.

 

“I thought you were smarter than this, Renee” he paused, his mouth so close to hers, she thought he would pounce on her.

 

“You’re dead, like the rest of us”

 

Renee furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head, “N-not…”

 

His grip on her throat tightened even more, “Yes you are. I would have killed you by now if you weren’t”

 

He took his hand off her neck and she barely took a breath once he did, lending to the idea that she was in fact no longer living.

 

He turned away from her, “Nice to see that you still had something in you…after I took all of it out” he smirked.

 

She felt her heart grow heavy with anger, “Where am I then!” she ordered.

 

He turned around slowly, “Nowhere”

 

His face changed again, but so did the place. She was back at Thomas’ compound, the hotel was ablaze and standing where the other had once stood, was Thomas himself. At first, he looked how he had always done, but as the fire consumed him, his flesh and hair began to burn away.

 

He merely looked at Renee, as if remembering her, “Everywhere”

 

And almost as quickly as they both appeared, the vision disappeared and she was back in the blank room. She remembered the wounds that their images kept and looked down at her own body. Underneath her clothes, she found two wounds that caused her death, the worst of which was at her own right breast. She wished they didn’t exist as they were so ugly. And as she wished it, they seemed to melt away, turning back to her normal form.

 

“You learn fast”

 

Renee looked up to see a small figure before her, blonde, messy hair, slightly baggy trousers and a vest top. She almost couldn’t believe it.

 

“Beth?” she asked.

 

The young girl walked towards her, smiling as brightly as she had done when she was alive. She cocked her head behind Renee and when she turned, there was Merle as well.

 

“Didn’t expect to see ya so soon” he said, the smallest hint of sadness behind his voice, knowing how Daryl must feel.

 

The realisation hit Renee right there. She was dead. She could feel the tightening, tearful feeling in her throat and chest and she pushed her hand to her eye as she cried. She fell to her knees, Beth joining her, trying to be somewhat comforting.

 

“I left him…” Renee cried, trying to catch her tears before they fell down her face, “…I couldn’t stay awake…”

 

“We know” Beth said, Renee looked up to her, “Ya woulda died anyway, wounds like that”

 

Renee shook her head, “I didn’t want to die…”

 

“Ya never do” she replied sadly.

 

“Don’t mean ya can’t see ‘im no more ya know” Merle said.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Merle offered his hand out to her, to which she questionably took it. He led her beside him, where around them, the grass sprouted from the ground, concrete emerged and the sky began to take shape in the once blank room. Around them all, Alexandria formed. They were outside the gates, where the rusted cars were parked. It panged Renee’s heart to see the bullet holes in the front gates.

 

“Merle, it’s too soon” Beth warned.

 

“She wants to see ‘im don’t she?”

 

Cautiously, Renee approached the inside of Alexandria. She could no longer feel the breeze, nor the warmth the sun was giving off. She felt nothing now and could only walk with Merle and Beth behind her, guiding her. In the distance she could see a group of people, some of them low to the ground, and she couldn’t quite tell who as the sun was setting behind them.

 

As Renee got closer, she realised the man knelt on the floor was Daryl, his hand was bloody almost up to his arm and he was clutching the hand of a woman on the ground, who Renee shockingly recognised as herself, dead on the ground. They had obviously been there hours before she had finally died and Daryl had sat there the whole time, pleading for her to come back.

 

She felt the tears come now as she watched Daryl realise that she was dead, he hugged her dead form to his body, praying she would not be dead. But Renee could only watch sadly as he exclaimed with grief, the shock of her death traumatising. Beth herself looked upon her sister who was comforting Daryl. Merle looked upon his upset brother, who at this point could not form cohesive sentences without crying out at the loss of his lover’s life.

 

She hated watching him cry there. She simply wanted to speak to him, tell him that she was sorry for leaving him behind. But she turned to Beth and Merle, tears sitting in her eyes,

 

“So this is real, huh?”

 

Beth nodded sadly.

 

“’m sorry, ya shouldn’t have to see yaself like this”

 

She looked back at her own body on the ground, there was blood all over her torso and a ghastly wound at her breast and hip, one of her hands was clutching the worse wound, the other held by Daryl, grasping at her life. Her hair had been matted with the blood pooling underneath her and her eyes were ever so slightly open, revealing her bright green eyes underneath.

 

Renee furrowed her brows, turning back to the two,

 

“Why have I not turned yet?”

 

Merle shrugged, “Beats me”

 

“You won’t turn” Beth said suddenly.

 

Renee shook her head, “But why?”

 

“Back at the prison, when we had that outbreak of illness and all those people turned. You walked right by them and they never even touched you”

 

“I can’t be like…immune though right? That’s not possible, we don’t even know how it came about in the first place?”

 

Beth shrugged, “Well, ya look pretty human there to me”

 

“Doesn’t mean I was immune”

 

She took a long look over at Daryl, before turning and walking away.

 

“I can’t look at him like that, take me back”

 

But there was no reply, the two figures had disappeared and she looked up to find she was back in the blank room. She realised now that she was well and truly alone, alone in this world that she was stuck in. The worst memories from her life now coming back to greet her.

 

She did not expect her parents to have already died though.

 

And for them to expect her to go to them so willingly.

 

She closed her eyes and thought about her home back in England and before she knew it, her feet were on the concrete pavement. She opened her eyes to see the street where she used to live. ‘Oxford close’ said the assign at the corner of the road, it was dirty and dusty now, not too dissimilar from what it used to be like. She looked ahead, behind an overgrown hedge was a home that was boarded up, clearing not fit for inhabitancy. There was a sign on the front door.

 

‘This property has been seized by Leicestershire City Council under the Fire and Hazards Act of 2001 and is therefore exempt for human inhabitance. This property is now under the ownership of Leicestershire City Council, for further details please contact…’

 

It had obviously not been redone after the house fire. Renee stepped inside the home, where she found it was simply blackened. Every window pane, the floor, the ceiling, pure black. The smell was indescribable really, burning plastic and textiles filled the damp air and she remembered the many sufferings she endured here. She looked to the corner where her father would discipline her but looked away sadly.

 

In the kitchen were the two figures who claimed to be her parents again. Her mother was Scottish by descent, with pale red hair tied up messily into a bun. Renee inherited her bright green eyes and pale complexion. She looked down to see the slit marks at her wrists now, the cause of her mother’s death.

 

“Renee” her mother said, walking towards her slightly.

 

“Forgive us” she said quietly, begging.

 

Renee looked to her father. He was originally Spanish but moved to the UK as a child, now estranged from his parents. He had dark, almost black hair, which Renee had and slightly olive toned skin. There was a bullet wound at the side of his head, his own cause of death. His eyes looked blankly at his daughter, unnervingly still.

 

Renee looked back at her mother, shaking her head.

 

“I will never forgive you”

 

And the figures disappeared.

 

From the look of things outside on the street, the area had been evacuated years previous, as no life seemed to remain. It was clear the same sort of fate had landed in her home country as well.

 

She thought of the people in England she might want to see, but nobody came to mind. The only person she thought of, from years ago, who she might want to see now.

 

Negan.

 

And as quickly as she thought of his name, she was there beside him. Invisible to him, she stood there and watched his moves. He was sat with his men, Dwight and Simon, discussing the battle that had occurred at Alexandria, not hours before. She thought, _maybe he doesn’t know what happened to me._

“It was a fucking disaster, Simon” he said, clearly angry.

 

“This is good, Negan. They’re on their knees right now, they’re weak. We gotta finish what we started”

  
Negan looked almost frustrated, “I told you to not put the woman in danger”

 

“She’s on their goddamn side! Far as we know she coulda killed you”

 

 _So he doesn’t know,_ she thought sadly.

 

He slammed Lucille onto the table, making the two men shut right up.

 

“I didn’t ask your opinion. I told you to not put her in danger”

 

He stepped towards Simon, who was sat straight on his chair. He pointed Lucille’s end into his face, a common threat from Negan.

 

“If I find out she has but a scratch on her…if I find out that you didn’t give the order…I will kill you…slowly…”

 

Simon was silent. He had forgotten to give the order to his men to not harm certain people there.

 

It had slipped his mind.

 

“And you better fuckin’ believe that is a promise”

 

Renee’s form disappeared and Negan suddenly turned around, having felt a chill that sent his hairs on the back of his neck straight upwards. He rubbed his nape, to warm it back up again, and gave one more glaring look at Simon and Dwight.

 

“Out” he ordered. And the two left.

 

Negan was overcome with a weary feeling and as he tapped Lucille on the table in front of him, couldn’t think of why that might be.

 


End file.
